Return to Muliphein
by Stutley Constable
Summary: When seven heroes of the Empire set out to save a former pirate all hell will break loose and no one can know for sure what will come of it. Plots thicken and secret plans are exposed in the next thrilling adventure of Amelia and Sparrow! Episode 4.
1. Chapter 1

**Legal Note:** I do not own any of the characters associated with Pirates of the Caribbean or Treasure Planet. I do not have any legal right to use them or any other proprietary words originating from these movies. This story was done just for the fun of it. Not for profit. If you like it, please tell me. If you don't like it, please tell me why with particulars but not excessive detail.

**Summary:** Former pirate, once hated enemy, John Silver has been kidnapped. His daughter has asked Amelia and Jack to help find and rescue him. With the Empire at war, how will our heroes fair in the vast Muliphein Expanse? Will they be able to rescue their friend and make it home to tell the tale?

**Return to Muliphein**

**Chapter I**

"There you are, Jack," Anamaria said coming around the corner. She had been looking for Jack Sparrow for some little time now and here he was on the ornate balcony that overlooked the expanse of the great capitol city of the Empire with its towers and spires rising to dizzying heights. The balcony hung many stories above the paved avenues and served as a sort of exterior hallway outside the suite of palace rooms given over to the Heroes of Muliphein, as they were collectively known. A steady drizzle of rain was coming down and Jack was standing close enough to the rail to get drenched with the spray. In his hand was the ever-present bottle. Oddly, this one was still full. "What are you doing out here?"

Jack cast a sidelong look at the young woman he'd brought from their distant home in the Caribbean back on Earth. His expression was hard to read but there was a somberness to him that Anamaria had never seen before. He swayed back from the rail with an easy push of his hand and with an extravagantly casual motion he plucked the cork from the bottle and took a swig. He regarded the bottle with a loose interest as the liquor burned its way down his throat.

"What's wrong, Jack?" Anamaria asked concerned.

"This is the first rain I've seen since we left home," Jack said with a gesture at the weather. "Funny what you miss when you haven't seen it for a time."

"Jack, what's gotten into you?"

"This stuff's pretty good but it's not rum, all dark and sweet and burning." He drank again and then corked the bottle and tossed it to her. "Not bloody rum."

Anamaria caught the bottle and instinctively pulled the cork and took a drink. God! How could he drink this stuff? She replaced the cork and set the bottle on a small metal table by the door. She kept silent sensing that Jack would answer her question in his own time. He looked down at himself. The front of his new frock coat was dripping wet. His new britches were soaked from the waist to the knees. There was an uncharacteristic listlessness to him. He plucked at the front of his coat and held it as if to display the intricate embroidery to her.

"And this isn't my bloody coat, either." He stripped it off and threw it over the rail as if casting away something foul. Anamaria continued to watch him in silence. "Have you noticed that all we've done lately is rescue people?"

"That is what Amelia brought us along for," Anamaria said reasonably.

"One person," Jack said turning to face her. "I agreed to rescue one person. One!" Jack thrust his hand forward with his index finger raised to emphasize his point. "One bloody person and then home. That was our bargain. That's all I signed on to do. I never wanted a bloody medal! I never wanted to traipse through a bleeding jungle or climb a bleeding mountain! I'm a sailor. That's why I live on an island!"

"So you wan' to go home." Anamaria's voice was low and gentle. She understood. "But now Fidda needs us."

Jack shot her a look and then turned to lean on the rail with his face in the rain and his eyes closed.

"And you are going to help even though you don't wan' to," the girl continued.

"The man risked his life for us." Jack's shoulders slumped. He hung his head. "And I'm going to help because I have to."

Anamaria knew there was more to it than that. She'd seen Jack's expression when Fidda had walked into the room last night and asked them to help find her father. She knew all too well why Jack was acting this way now. They stayed there quietly with only the rain for company. It spattered and drizzled and Jack got even more soaked than he already was. Finally, Anamaria broke the silence.

"Do you think anyone will help Amelia?"

Jack considered the question a moment before answering.

"No," he said simply. "It's too much of a risk for them. Even if Amelia is a bloody hero the Admiralty won't help. It won't bring them any profit to help us. They'd be risking men and ships just to get an old pirate back. We're on our own, lass. Just like always."

* * *

><p>Across the great court square from the towering palace of the Empress sat a broad, expansive structure with towers of its own. Here were housed the many offices of the many bureaucrats responsible for running the armed forces of the Empire. Amelia sat in yet another waiting room. She had been to four of the members of the Admiralty Board already and this was her last hope for getting some kind of help.<p>

She had gone to her oldest friend on the Board first but Admiral Horniday did not have the authority to aid her more than by writing a personal note of endorsement. She had known before even calling on him that his duties were limited to overseeing the deployment of the Fleet as allocated by High Command. He could assign men to the various ships as need arose but that was as far as his powers stretched, at least as far as they might apply to her situation. If she could get a ship Horniday could get her a crew. Getting the ship was the trouble. The other members of the Board had expressed regret but none of them were willing to risk any of their admittedly limited resources to aid her. So here she was in Admiral Hesh's waiting room. Admiral Hesh was not her friend. Admiral Hesh had not particularly liked Lieutenant Amelia when he had been Commodore Hesh and she had risked her life and the lives of a small boarding party to capture a light frigate. Admiral Hesh had liked it even less when Lieutenant Amelia had then taken that prize and committed it to an uneven battle with a sixty gun ship-of-the-line. The only thing that had saved Lieutenant Amelia from a Courts Marshal was the fact that she had disabled that sixty gunner, and at the cost of the light frigate, she had captured the sixty gunner, which had turned the tide of the battle just enough for the Imperial Fleet to win the day. It was his belief that Lieutenant Amelia should have waited for reinforcements and should have requested permission of her superior officer to engage the enemy in such a fashion. She had observed then that results mattered more in a battle than form. Admiral Hesh had been forced to agree and had not liked doing so.

"Commodore Amelia?" a young ensign called from the open door. Amelia looked up. "The Admiral will see you now."

Amelia was led down the short administrative hall with its clerks and desks and filing cabinets to the Admiral's office. The tall wooden doors stood slightly ajar indicating the Admiral was available for interruption. The young ensign announced Amelia and then after admitting her closed the doors.

"Good afternoon, Commodore, and congratulations," said Admiral Hesh as he rose ponderously to his feet. His broad, rocky bulk reminded Amelia of her old first mate the late Mr. Arrow. They were of the same race but the similarities ended there. Hesh was grey in color indicating that he was considerably older than Arrow had been. And Hesh walked with a pronounced limp due to the peg-leg he preferred over the cybernetic limb that would have enabled him to get around with his natural gate.

"Good afternoon, Admiral," Amelia returned his greeting. "Thank you and thank you for taking time out of your day to see me."

"You are welcome," Hesh waved her to a seat. "Would you care for something to drink? No?"

"I don't want to take up more of your time than is necessary, sir."

"I see. Are you looking for a command?"

"In a manner of speaking, Sir," Amelia was uncomfortable. She did not like asking for anything, especially help. "You see, I need a ship."

"There are many officers in that situation." Hesh peered at her over folded hands. "While I understand the desire to get into action I must tell you that ships are in short supply at the moment. We are bringing as many vessels as we can out of mothballs as quickly as we can. Our largest yards at Mhoth are processing twenty ships a day and they are being dispatched to the front directly from there. Even with our highest production and refitting we are just able to stay ahead of the losses we are suffering. Yet there are more officers on our list than there are ships available. I wish we could say the same of crews."

"It's not a front line posting that I need a ship for, Admiral." Amelia went on to describe the situation. She told him how John Silver had risked himself, his ship, his crew and his daughter at the Battle of Muliphein. She told him how Silver had been taken from his home and how Fidda had searched for him finally coming here to the Capitol to enlist the help of Amelia and Sparrow to rescue her father.

"So," Hesh rumbled. "Still going off on your own missions, eh?"

Amelia refused to rise to the bait and remained undaunted by his disapproving frown.

"This Silver, he was a pirate as I understand," Hesh said.

"He was," Amelia confirmed. "But in the end he was loyal to the Empire and to me personally. He was loyal when it would have been safer for him to remain a brigand. Without his help the battle might easily have gone the other way."

"I've read the reports, Commodore," Hesh waved a hand dismissively. "I am aware of this man's service in a time of crisis. However, even if he were a commissioned officer of the Fleet we could not spare a ship for such a mission. We could spare the crew to man one even less."

"Sir," Amelia swallowed her pride. "Is there nothing you can do?"

The admiral looked down at his desk considering for a moment. "The only thing I can think of, Commodore, is for you to engage a private vessel. Keep in mind that the Fleet is snapping up as many serviceable ships as we can. There were many ships sold off after the Procyon War that we are now reclaiming. There are many civilian vessels that we are pressing into service regardless of their origins. However, if you can find one before the Fleet Acquisition Department gets hold of it you may be able to get away with it. Then, of course, you would need a crew."

"Yes, sir," Amelia said. "I had thought of that."

She rose preparing to go but the admiral stopped her.

"One other thing occurs to me, Commodore," Hesh said coming to his feet. "The Fleet is also taking on privateers. Perhaps one of them would consent to risk their ship for the right price."

"Thank you, Admiral Hesh," Amelia said and shook his hand.

"You know," Hesh said holding her in his grip a moment longer. "I was wrong about you, Commodore. Sometimes going through channels is not the best way to get things done."

The press of his hand, the look in his eyes and the emphasis in his words made Amelia think he was suggesting something that he was unable or unwilling to state more plainly. He released her hand and they exchanged salutes before Amelia opened the door and departed.

* * *

><p>"So what will we do now?" Fidda asked after Amelia had described her day to the gathered company.<p>

"I'm not certain yet," Amelia replied and then sipped from her glass of claret. "My conversation with Admiral Hesh has me thinking. And the personal endorsement of Admiral Horniday does give me some credit."

"Why not just use the Morsa?" Delbert asked referring to Fidda's ship. He had just put the children down for the night with Broad Foot they were now sleeping in their room quietly.

"Aside from needing more cannon and more crew to service them and work the ship in battle, if it comes to that, one ship is not enough for this sort of mission. I want at least two. Three would be better." Amelia set her glass down and tapped her fingers meditatively.

"What would it take to get the Smollette back in service?" Anamaria asked.

"Mostly a crew and some hard work. We might be able to refit her on the way. She has most of her guns and I'm sure we could acquire replacements once we were across the border." Amelia continued to tap her fingers.

"How were you able to gather your last crew?" Fidda asked.

"They were all old servicemen. Men who had served under my command in the old days," Amelia answered without looking up. "Those that are still able-bodied are now deployed with the Fleet. There are very few spacers of the sort we need who aren't."

"Amelia," Jack put in. "Perhaps I could shine a light on your benighted sea of thought."

Amelia looked up with a questioning eye.

"Where I'm from," Jack continued. "we recruit from the docks and taverns. We don't have the niceties of the recruiting office or the pressgang. We take what comes our way and winnow out those unsuited to the life once under sail."

"An undisciplined crew?" Alamimo asked aghast.

"It may come to that, I'm afraid," Amelia said gravely. "There is one other route that I intend to try in the morning. Until then, I think it would be best if we all got some sleep and consider what other options we might pursue."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II**

Amelia rose early the next morning and was out of the apartments before any but Broad Foot and Delbert had risen. She was dressed in her very finest Fleet Uniform with her brand new insignia on her collar and epaulets. She wore her new hat as well even though she thought it ridiculously overdone. Last night she had known this was likely to be a wasted effort but she had few options and fortune favors the bold.

She arrived at the outer apartments of the Empress and the Royal Imperial Family half an hour after dawn. There she presented her credentials and was asked the nature of her business by a highly polished, gold plated robot specialized in etiquette and protocol.

"I wish to see the Empress on a matter of personal importance," Amelia told the robot.

"Can you be more specific, Commodore Amelia?" the machine voice asked.

"I wish to ask a boon of Her Imperial Majesty in the hope that I might save a life worthy of saving and thereby repay a debt I feel I owe," Amelia said phrasing her answer to categorize it in what might be considered a priority request by the robot. She knew that to such a mechanical brain, phrasing was all important.

"The wait may be long, Commodore Amelia," the robot told her.

"I am prepared to wait," Amelia assured it.

A page was summoned to conduct her to the waiting room. There were already two other petitioners seated on the long benches. The air smelled stale and was rife with body odors. Amelia stayed as close to the door as she was able. She did not want such a smell clinging to her clothes when she went before the Imperial Presence. As she sat, Amelia surreptitiously surveyed the other two occupants of the room. One was tall and lean with grey skin textured with many wrinkles. He slouched on the bench holding a tall, slim cane between his gnarled hands. His clothing was expensive but it had been worn often and showed loose threads at the cuffs where it had frayed. His head was elongated with two rows of eyes that did not stir from the floor. Long ago he must have been quite impressive but now he reminded Amelia of an old ruin once grand, lovely in its dilapidation but never to be restored to glory. An old Planetary Service officer looking to be reinstated, perhaps? The other occupant was in civilian dress and seemed to be the source of the body odor. It was clear that he had not shaved nor had he bathed for days. He looked worn and haggard, clutching his sabertash as though it were a life preserver. Obviously a functionary on an errand for some master intent on gaining the Imperial attention for something or other. She could think of no other reason for such a creature to remain in this room for so long.

A thought struck her then. How long would her wait be? She'd had breakfast and a bath. If she didn't move around a great deal her uniform would stay fresh enough for hours. Glancing at the other two petitioners she decided that if they could keep a long vigil she certainly could. Settling back on the bench Amelia began her siege.

* * *

><p>Jack had wandered out shortly after breakfast. He was feeling cramped by the luxurious apartments and the broad windows displaying endless vistas of the grand city. He wanted to be on the open sea but there seemed no cure for that so he decided to find a gutter where he might feel a little more at home. Unfortunately, the closest thing to such a gutter he could find was a working man's tavern. These were not the high toned officials he loathed. These were not Fleet officers and bureaucrats who spent their days shuffling papers and filling out forms. These were the men and presumably women who made sure that all of these magnificent machines continued to run. Men who made their way in the world by the sweat of their brows and strength their backs. They weren't sailors but they weren't too good to drink with one. Jack sat quietly in the corner when he felt that old and all too familiar sense that he was being watched.<p>

To his eye, the people and creatures that made up the small crowd of patrons did not seem to be the source of this feeling. Appearing far more relaxed than he really was Jack changed his position as though he were only trying to get more comfortable. He watched the movement around him as if he were oblivious to everything. He had lived in some of the hardest districts of the civilized world and a few of the hardest of the uncivilized parts too. Jack, like a fox on the hunt, knew when he was being hunted. Again he change how he was seated even going so far as to slap the cushion of the chair and adjust the angle of the seat. No one payed him any attention and that was what gave his hunter away. Everyone in the room moved a little. People do when they aren't doing anything but relaxing with friends in a familiar place. Only here there had been one person who had not moved an iota. Jack saw this in the reflection from a large glass bottle on the shelf behind the bar.

"That's one," Jack murmured to himself settling back into his chair. He sat there sipping at his drink and wishing for rum while he carefully observed the one patron who was not there to drink. It was a short, thin creature with purplish skin and roughly human shaped features. Jack memorized what he could see. In the world of pirates, charts were not always ready to hand and as often as not they were wrong. A wise captain needed to be able to identify a place from landmarks at a great distance. Jack was very good at that sort of thing. Even in the darkest night he was able to find where he was by glimpsing the coastline of an island or the position of cottage lights on shore.

He watched too for any other character who might wander by and completely ignore the one watching him. Jack waited an hour until he was sure that the watcher was alone and then he rose and paid his bill. Once out in the street he made no attempt to evade his hunter. That wouldn't do. Jack wanted someplace quiet. Someplace out of the way and preferably dark. He found it in the form of an access tunnel leading through a building. There were no workmen or pedestrians coming out or going in. At the far end was a lighted exit. This sort of thing was always dangerous because it would take only one person at either end to trap him inside and Jack did not like to be trapped. Strolling along as though he had not a care in the world Jack steered down this tunnel. He stayed close to the side as he entered knowing that his pursuer would rush up to watch as he passed out of the other side. If the creature were skilled at its trade it might swing wide so that it could get a broader view of the tunnel and keep away from its quarry. Jack clung to the shadows and blended in like smoke in fog.

He did not have long to wait. The creature ran to the corner of the tunnel and peered in with wide eyes. Jack was safe in the darkness. He had gone far enough down the tunnel that no light could fall directly on him. To his pursuer it must have appeared that Jack had vanished. Cautiously the creature entered the tunnel, silhouetted against the light from the street beyond. It stepped lightly making hardly a sound as it crept along. In the darkness it passed Jack by, never seeing or hearing him. It passed on up the tunnel and out into the farther street where it spun around clearly confused. Hesitating there it strained its eyes trying to pierce the gloom in the tunnel but it knew that it had just gone through and there had been no evidence of its quarry. Turning, it made its way rapidly along the farther avenue. Jack drifted from the shadows to pursue it.

* * *

><p>Amelia remained where she was without speaking to either of her fellow inmates as the hours ticked by. They were joined by other petitioners who filed down the long benches and filled them to overflowing. By afternoon the walls were lined with every example of species found within the bounds of the Empire. Some waited for only a few hours before they were called into the Imperial Presence. Some gave up hope and slouched off dejectedly. Many chatted amongst themselves having become acquainted in previous vigils of this kind. None spoke to Amelia or the tall old officer. Strangely he did not move nor did he seem to notice those around him.<p>

Amelia, to pass the time, began to rifle through her memory in an effort to place his species. She tried to remember those long ago xenomorphology classes she had to take at the academy. She had, of course, passed them with high marks but they were so long ago. Twenty years, was it? How time flies. She rifled her memory and finally came to it. Teyerngarol! Of course! It had been the texture of his skin that had thrown her off. This particular example of the race must be quite ancient. His withered frame and the sunken look to his cheeks spoke volumes about him. Perhaps three hundred years? Well past his prime. And yet he hopes for what? Death in service? Bless him.

Amelia's stomach was growling as evening approached. She had prepared for missing a meal by having ration bars tucked into her pocket but she had not realized just how long the wait would be. Before today she had never considered just how long some petitioners would wait to see the Empress. The crowd in the waiting room had thinned but there were still more than a hundred individuals there. The Teyerngarol continued his unmoving vigil but the smelly little creature with the sabertash had gotten up to stretch his legs and now leaned against the far wall looking forlornly to the door. Hope had gone from his face long ago to be replaced by despair.

For the hundredth time Amelia drew her chronometer from her pocket to examine it's face. She smile again at the portrait secured in the lid. The chronometer had been a gift from Delbert on their second anniversary. The portrait was one of them on their wedding day. She loved that dress. It was so beautiful. One day she hoped one of the girls would cherish it as much as she did. She was lost in this revere when she felt a hand on her arm. Looking up she found the page who had earlier conducted her to this room.

"The Empress will see you now, Commodore Amelia," he said and motioned for her to follow him.

* * *

><p>Jack kept far enough back to watch the thing as it searched for him. Soon, though, it must have understood that Jack was nowhere to be found and the trail had gone cold. It broke off and made its way to the main avenues of the city down long side streets with Jack following all the time.<p>

Finally, the creature slipped into a side alley. Jack lost sight of it for a moment before he was able to swing wide and get a look between the buildings without risking being caught. The alley was narrow and long with ash bins lining one wall. This did not feel right to Jack and he hesitated before making any move. His eyes scanned all about him and his ears were pricked for the slightest sound out of the ordinary. There! Someone was moving towards him through the crowd. Jack casually began walking away from the alley. He knew nothing of this city and was not sure he could navigate to safety. Once he had lost this pursuer he was certain he could find his way back to the palace. It was the tallest structure in the whole Capitol and any cabin boy could find it. The problem of the moment was to get away to some place that could offer sanctuary.

Out of the corner of his eye Jack caught another figure moving too casually towards him. These people were good but they weren't quite good enough. Jack turned away again. He headed diagonally away from both men. Ahead he could see an open air market similar to those he was familiar with on Earth. It would be dangerous but the market offered more hope of evasion. Jack made for it, no longer worried about being circumspect. He glanced over his shoulder to see three men pushing their way through the crowd. They weren't really men, of course. One with a skin tone like wet ashes was more or less man shaped but it had longer arms and a much longer, nearly featureless face with its mouth near the lower edge of its chin. Another was stout as a stump, about as tall as Anamaria and wearing an outlandish purple hat. Or was that its hair? The third was cloaked in a dark material with a very broad brimmed hat. Tall, sapling thin, it moved with undeniable force.

Dropping the last pretense of a casual demeanor, Jack threw himself into a sprint. Running with head back and arms waving he shouted at people to get out of his way. Confusion preceded him into the market. Things with feathers darted out of his path, baskets were overturned, people cursed him and Jack bolted on. Ahead of him the black cloaked thing suddenly loomed out of the crowd. Then Jack understood. He had not been pursuing the creature from the tavern. He had been baited here. He cursed himself and darted between stalls hurling pots and crockery from shelves at the black cloaked thing. As he came out of the other side of the narrow space the stumpy creature was waiting for him. It threw out its arms intent on catching the fleeing man in a bear hug. Jack dropped to his knees and slid over the smooth cobbles underneath the closing arms. Popping up Jack paused long enough to kick the thing in the seat of its pants and send it stumbling into the black cloaked thing as it emerged from the space Jack had just departed.

Feeling that he was nearly home free Jack made to sprint away deeper into the market only to feel his legs tangled up by something. Falling, Jack looked down to discover a length of cord wrapped about his ankles. His hand went to his knife as he hit the cobbles but before he could try cutting the fibers the first creature was there and clubbed him on the side of the head. Things went black.

* * *

><p>The great armored doors swung silently giving egress to the private chamber of the Empress of the Galactic Empire. Amelia had expected lavish adornments, murals, flowers and exotic pets. What she found was a Spartanly adorned room containing only a raised dais and a great silvery crystal disc on the far wall that shimmered and fluxed with every flicker of the light. Amelia was reflected a thousand fold in its rippling surface. On the dais stood the Empress reminding Amelia again of a statue cut from purest diamond, flawless and breathtakingly beautiful. Off to the side stood a Skeffende in civilian dress that was styled very closely on the uniforms of the Fleet. Like all Skeffende his skin looked like un-burnished bronze, Unlike any of that race she had ever met this one had a narrow face and sly eyes that spoke of secrets learned and kept. Instantly she was on her guard.<p>

Conforming to protocol, Amelia strode within two paces of the dais and bowed sweeping her hat off and tucking it under arm. She did not rise until the Empress spoke.

"Greetings, Commodore Amelia," the Empress said in her voice that literally came from the air and sounded like the chiming of crystal bells. "We had not expected to have the pleasure of your company again so soon. Your request for a boon sounds to Us a dire matter."

"I thank Your Highness for this indulgence," Amelia began. "The boon I ask is, indeed, prompted by a dire cause. The daughter of John Silver has requested that we succor her father, Majesty. He was taken by unknown agents from his home and spirited into the Muliphein Expanse for reasons we suspect are similar to those that led the late and discredited Captain Faux-Jeton to her attempt upon my party."

"Majesty, may I speak?" the Skeffende said softly. He had the air and tone of a cultured sycophant long used to having his own way in the company of the Empress. This time he did not get it for the Empress ignored him.

"What boon would you have of Us?" the ruler of the Empire asked Amelia.

"I must have a ship and a crew to rescue Silver, Majesty," Amelia said simply.

In those crystal eyes Amelia saw compassion and felt sure that the Empress would grant her request. She did not show it but her heart rose with the hope of a ship. The Empress did not govern the Empire with total sway but her word was law and if she said Amelia was to have a ship then nothing anyone else said could alter the decree.

"Majesty," said the Skeffende again. The Empress looked to him this time. "This Silver is a brave man. His actions at the Battle of Muliphein are worthy of praise. At great personal risk he supported Commodore Amelia nearly losing his life and that of his daughter not to mention his crew and their ship."

Amelia was surprised. Perhaps she had misjudged this person. She had not expected such as he to support her request. It was, however, her turn to not get what she had anticipated.

"I can not advise, though, that Your Majesty grant this boon," he said with an almost theatrical expression of regret. "Captain John Silver is only one man. How many men would we risk were we to grant the Commodore her ship. Crews and vessels are needed on our borders. A foray into the lawless regions of the Expanse by one of our vessels would be no more than a waste of resources. Resources in critically short supply. The need to maintain an active Fleet presence on three frontiers is a massive drain on our forces."

Silence fell as the Empress considered her councilors words. Amelia could see the indecision on her monarch's face. Finally the Empress looked her in the eye.

"With sorrow I must decline this boon, Commodore," the Empress said. "Lord Cobarde is correct. This risk balanced against the gain is too great. We wish it were otherwise. Go now with Our blessing."

Cobarde? The Imperial Master of Intelligence? Amelia pulled her thoughts away from the implications. Dismissed, she bowed again and took three steps backward before turning to leave. She strode out of the apartments of the Royal Family with her head held high and her back ramrod straight. She had known the odds were against her when she had set out this morning. The weight of obligation pressed down on her but she would not bend. She had not allowed herself to despair when Delbert had disappeared and would not let herself give in so easily in this endeavor either. She strode on thinking of other options that might be pursued. Other friends she might touch to acquire a ship. Her greatest challenge was the crew. Where could she come up with enough men? Perhaps Jack was right.

"Commodore Amelia?" a man's voice called from behind her. She had walked by him without noticing him particularly. She turned. "Ha! It is you. I am so delighted to come across you, Madame."

The man was a human dressed in a Fleet Captain's uniform, a little portly but noticeably tough, as though he had seen active service. He bowed and extended a hand. Amelia took it politely but without enthusiasm. She was busy and did not wish to be detained.

"I am Captain Albert Round, Madame," said the man by way of introduction. "I wish to congratulate you and ask a small favor, if it is not too bold."

"How do you do, sir," Amelia replied politely. "What favor could I do for you?"

"My son is quite taken with your exploits, Commodore," Captain Round said as he drew a sheet of paper from his sabertash. "He is a boy of twelve and has a passion for drawing. Mostly it's quite fanciful stuff but he has some talent. He wished for me to give you this if ever we were to meet and here we are."

Amelia took the paper with a genuine smile. Her children were very dear to her heart and she was glad to accept such a gift from a proud father. The drawing was actually quite good being a rendering of a brig at full sail with its guns out as if about to join battle.

"He has an eye for details, Commodore," said Round with an inflection in his voice that made Amelia pay closer attention to his words than she might have. "Note the guns and the crew. He has even rendered the signal flags in some detail, you will observe."

Amelia did observe the signal flags. Out of the whole image they were the only part rendered in color. They described a course to be set and were capped with the flag for 'Urgent Command'. Amelia looked up into the face of the officer before her. His mouth smiled but his eyes were intent as they bored into hers.

"Your son's attention to detail is commendable, Captain," Amelia said. "I can read every detail here. Were I to ignore such an order, catastrophe might occur."

"Such a clear course would indeed need to be followed," Round said with a nod. "I wish you well, Commodore. As do many others."

With that cryptic statement the captain saluted her and they again shook hands before he trundled on about his business. Amelia was left standing there in the hallway with a decision to make. Never one to dither over such things she turned about and took her bearings. Another glance at the page told her where to go from there.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter III**

Jack woke with a splash of water in his face. He shook his head to clear his eyes quickly discovering that it was a mistake. Once more he found himself with an aching head. It took only a moment's thought to recall the chase in the market. Squinting into the dimness he took quick stock of the situation. Jack had no clear notion of how long he had been unconscious but felt that it had been some time. He flexed his arms and found that his wrists were bound to the chair in which he sat, as were his ankles. He gritted his teeth before shaking his head again setting his ornaments jangling while he blinked the water from his eyes. The side of his head still hurt, though, the grey haze at the edge of his vision was considerably reduced. There was a stinging in his arm reminiscent of the sting from the darts Broad Foot and his friends had shot him with. Jack could see his weapons and hat laying on a small table across the room. Other than that he found nothing worth noting.

"How do you feel, Mr. Sparrow?" a cultured voice asked from behind him. There was a strange accent to it.

"I've had worse hangovers," Jack quipped.

"Aren't you going to ask where you are?" the voice inquired.

"I'm in a dark room somewhere that no one will ever hear my screams as you torture me." Jack knew this routine. He'd been in places like this before. Granted, he had never been in a place like this so far from home before, but how much difference could there really be?

"I suppose it's a little obvious, after all," said the voice amused. "I'm afraid that rooms such as this are far too useful to be uncommon."

"Aye," Jack agreed with a chuckle. "So what is it you want from me? Wait. Allow me to make a guess. You want to know what Amelia is up to. You want to know why Fidda Silver came here. Am I right?"

"No," the voice said without inflection. "Miss Silver is here to gain your support in an attempt to rescue her father from agents of an unknown power in the Muliphein Expanse. Commodore Amelia is trying to get a ship for that mission. What I want to know is what you would like."

"Eh?" Jack said none to brightly.

"It's no trick, Mr. Sparrow," said the voice sedately. "What would you like most in all the worlds?"

"That's captain," Jack said buying time to think.

"I beg your pardon?" the voice came, confused this time.

"Captain Sparrow," Jack said. "My rank is captain."

"Ah! Forgive me. Captain Sparrow, what would you like most in all of the worlds?"

Thinking for a moment Jack was able to answer honestly for a change.

"I want me ship."

"A ship?" the voice said not catching the note of desire in Jack's voice nor understanding the use of the pronoun. "Nothing more?"

"My ship would do," Jack assured the voice. He heard steps come around him and there emerged into the limited light a figure much like a man. It had a strange appearance. The texture and color of the skin was similar to that of unpolished bronze. The man had small, lady-like hands and a narrow chin with eyes the like of which Jack had seen many. This was a predator. Not a bold predator that would run its prey down and take what it wanted by force. No. That would be too risky for such as this creature. This kind of predator slipped into nests and ate the young when the parents were away. This predator used poison and blackmail. This was a most dangerous predator, indeed.

"I had thought a man of your calibre would desire wealth and riches," the man said with a sniff. "Are you sure a ship is all that you desire?"

"Wealth, you say?" Jack asked narrowing his eyes. This was a game he knew very well.

"And riches, Captain. And riches," said the man warmly.

"And what would I need to do to earn this wealth and riches and my ship?" Jack asked in such a way that anyone would have been able to tell he was interested and speculating.

"Work for me, Captain," the man said.

"And who are you?" Jack asked glancing up at the handsome face with its serpent's smile.

"Lord Vorace Cobarde, Imperial Master of Intelligence and advisor to the Throne and Parliament."

"Ahhhh..." Jack said as if he were impressed. In reality he was storing information for future use. "And what work could a humble ship's captain do for one so exulted, pray tell?"

"First, you are to prevent Commodore Amelia from obtaining a ship," Cobarde said ticking it off on his finger. "Failing that you will report to me on which ship she has acquired and subsequently you will do all in your power, without giving yourself away, to hamper her efforts to rescue John Silver. Her mission must fail."

After a cautious pause Jack asked, "Why not just kill her?"

"I have no desire for her death. Not yet. Certainly not if it can be avoided," Cobarde said mildly. "I simply can not allow her to rescue John Silver and stir up the Muliphein Expanse. Things are far too dangerous at the moment, Captain. Our resources are spread thin enough with the need to commit even more ships and crews to guard the frontier between the Galactic Empire and the Expanse."

"Ah," Jack said. "I see. So it's a noble sacrifice of a loyal man in order to preserve the Empire against a greater threat."

"Just so!" Cobarde smiled down at Jack as though he were a school master and Jack a clever pupil.

"I suppose that it is the right thing to do," Jack mused aloud. "When would I get the ship and the wealth and the riches?"

"As soon as you return," Cobarde assured him placidly.

"As soon as I return?" Jack frowned. "Not much incentive for me to risk my neck, is it, your lordship?"

"I see your point," Cobarde paced around Jack a bit and then stopped with a light in his eyes. "We shall establish a bank account for you here at the Capitol. I know just the bank. You would be able to draw funds from the account anywhere in the Empire. What do you say to fifty-thousand duckettes, Captain? Enough to start with?"

"Fifty-thousand?" Jack mused. Slowly he let his smile broaden until the gold in his teeth showed. Jack was not entirely familiar with the monetary system in the Empire but he knew fifty-thousand was a large sum. Then his expression closed down. "I don't have to harm Amelia or anyone in the crew?"

"No,' Cobarde said as if it was the furthest thing from his mind. "As I said, I just want the Commodore to fail in this mission. For the good of the Empire and all its citizens."

Jack thought for a long moment. Wheels were turning in his mind. Finally, looking up, he said, "Untie me hands and we have an accord."

* * *

><p>Amelia walked more cautiously as she wound her way down unfamiliar corridors. There were fewer and fewer people until there were none. She was now in some side hall probably used by workmen and servants. There were fewer lights and the halls were much narrower. Giving a last look at the drawing Amelia found a door. Just an ordinary door of plain construction but for some reason she felt it would open onto something much more dreadful. Amelia checked to be sure her sword was loose in its scabbard and that her pistol was on her hip. As an officer in good standing she was not merely permitted to bear arms in the Capitol. She was required to do so. Feeling that she must either open the door or flee she did what she always did. Beyond the door was nothing but an ordinary room with one occupant. The old Teyrngarol from the waiting room. Amelia stepped through the door and closed it behind her.<p>

"Do you know who I am, Commodore?" said the aged figure in a rich, sonorous voice that rustled at the edges like footsteps in snow. He sat hunched slightly forward in his chair resting his long, gnarled hands upon the head of his cane. Amelia suddenly sensed that he was vastly more dangerous than he appeared. Those shrewd eyes combined with that placid expression spoke of one who was long practiced at the art of giving nothing away.

"I do not, sir," she answered honestly and warily, her earlier uncertainties now put aside. "I think it is best if you tell me before we continue with this conversation."

"Baron Fforio Vencedor." His expression had not changed at all but in those few words he had conveyed both approval and trust. "Royal Spy Master for the Imperial Throne."

Amelia could not speak for a moment. An icy hand seemed to close about her heart. Baron Fforio had sought her out. She did not shiver nor did she draw back as one might in the presence of a deadly, venomous reptile. Instead, she went completely still as though any movement might provoke a lethal strike. She knew of him, though few people could say as much. Rumor had it that the Baron had more dead enemies than most people had living relatives.

"In case you are wondering, I am no longer an assassin, Commodore," said the Baron. "I have not been for many, many years."

"I understood that Lord Vorace Cobarde was the Imperial Master of Intelligence," Amelia said with only the slightest catch to her voice.

"So he is," the smile that ghosted over the old Spy Master's lips did not touch his eyes. "I believe the expression in vogue these days is 'Wheels within wheels.', Commodore."

"Meaning?" Amelia prompted uncomfortably.

This time the smile was friendlier.

"Meaning that the Imperial Family does not trust the Parliament to act in the best interests of the Empire."

"I was under the impression that you were no longer... active," Amelia said carefully.

"Officially, I am not," Baron Fforio said. "I retain my title by the tradition of the Court. Parliament considers me to be nothing more than a broken-down, old advisor that the Empress indulges because of my service to her grandfather. In reality, I am the hidden hand of the Empress. I advise in secret. I control those elements of espionage that are most useful to a ruler. If my hands get dirty they never touch the Imperial Family. Nothing I do can be traced back to them."

"So you are the secret power behind the throne?"

"No." The Spy Master's voice was more chill than a Bevrorenian glacier as he explained, "I am the knife in the dark. I am the ear at the door. I am the eye at the keyhole. I am the thing in the night, felt but never seen. I am the finder and the keeper of secrets. I am all that men fear. Above all else, I am loyal to the Empire and She who rules it. And I am one more thing, Commodore."

Amelia swallowed in spite of herself. "And what is that, Baron?"

"I am the man who can provide that which you desire."

* * *

><p>"So, Jack saved yer life," Fidda said to Alamimo unexpectedly. They had been standing at the window in the great-room looking out over the city and the many ships sailing into the port facilities. Both had been waiting for the return of Commodore Amelia and the news she would bring.<p>

"_Captain_ Sparrow saved all of us in the end," Alamimo replied after the briefest pause, stressing Jack's rank in what might have been a disapproving tone. Then she added stiffly, "He can be quite gallant when the time comes for such action."

"Aye. 'E can be quite fun when the time comes fer that sort of action, too," Fidda said with a wistful smile. Her eyes seemed to focus far beyond the city for a moment but her attention was all upon the woman standing at her side. "'E likes to drink. A lot."

"He certainly does," Alamimo had seen how much Captain Sparrow could imbibe first hand. In anyone else it would have put her off but somehow she felt that Jack would not be Jack if he did not drink to excess at every opportunity.

"'E likes to dance, too," Fidda said slyly her wistful smile changing to a smirk.

"Dance?" Alamimo stiffened, surprised by this revelation. "He did not dance at the ball the other night."

"Probably didn't like the music," Fidda shrugged.

"How do you know that the Captain likes to dance?" Alamimo inquired in a casual way that Fidda knew meant the Pajakian was interested.

"Oh... Well we danced at a tavern on Mahsa," Fidda said nonchalantly dropping her eyes to examine her finger nails. "And then again when they threw the ball for us on Situla after the battle."

Further conversation between the two was curtailed when the main door swung open and Amelia strode in. She paused only long enough to close the door before her rapid steps carried her to the sideboy where the liquor was kept. She poured a large snifter of Alponian whiskey and downed it in one great swallow. She poured again but sipped it this time. Her eyes were locked on the floor and she said not a word.

"Amelia?" Delbert asked as he came into the room. He had been watching the children play blind man's bluff with Anamaria, Brraadtt and Broad Foot. The little Raposa had been winning due to his hyper sensitive nose and hearing.

Amelia looked up with a wan smile and seemed to need a moment to compose herself.

"Has something happened?" Delbert asked. "You look as though you've seen a ghost."

"A ghost could never concern me so much as what I have just been through, darling," Amelia said finally shaking off the stress that hung about her. She tossed a thick leather wallet on the table. "I have good news, though."

Delbert picked up the wallet and opened it. He read for a moment before his eyes widened and he looked up nearly as shocked as she had been.

"What is it, Professor?" Alamimo asked crossing the room to his side.

"Remarkable," Delbert breathed. His expression was uncertain, wavering between concern and relief. He read aloud, "'Due to frequent incursions of pirates and raiders across the demilitarized zone on the border of the Muliphein Expanse the Empire finds it necessary, besides Her Majesty's Ships of War, to fit out and commission Private Men of War. Such commission is granted and required of Commodore Amelia Doppler and to reflect her rank and standing with the Empire and the favor of the Imperial Throne she is commissioned as Commodore of Privateers with all rank and powers inherent to that office.' They're sealed with the Empress' own stamp. Amelia has been commissioned as Commodore of Privateers in the service of the Galactic Empire."

"Commodore of Privateers?" Fidda asked. She knew what a privateer was. She had fought them on occasion and more often had avoided them but she had never heard of a Commodore of Privateers.

"It means that I am commissioned to command all privateering vessels in service to the Empire." Amelia swallowed another mouthful of whiskey. Her color was coming back now.

"Imperial privateers normally operate on their own without support from ships of the Fleet because they are not official members of the Fleet.," Alamimo explained. "They also do not share their prize money with any admiral, even if he is in sight of the engagement where the prizes were taken. A privateer does not have to obey battle commands from Fleet officers and are under no obligation to support Fleet actions. But a Commodore of Privateers is another matter entirely. It's rare for a commodore even to be appointed. Privateers generally don't need one."

"All of the privateers I've ever come across aren't much different from pirates," Fidda said.

"Well, they do operate very independently" Alamimo said without agreeing. "Normally you won't find more than one privateer vessel at a time. With the war on I suppose there is greater need to have them coordinated in areas where their tactics would be most effectively put to use."

"Is that where the Commodore comes in?" asked Fidda.

"Yes. A Commodore of Privateers has the authority to revoke the letters of marque. They can also issue commands to privateer vessels. Any privateer who fails to obey the commodore's orders can lose his commission. If the infraction is serious enough, those privateer officers can be executed as pirates under the commodore's authority without referring them to a courts martial or an appeal to a maritime court. Privateers, therefore, must obey any commands given by their commodore."

"But that is not the important part," Amelia interrupted. "With those letters of marque I now have legal rights to acquire such materials as are needed to repair the _Smollette_ and up-gun the _Morsa_. We don't need money for that because as privateers we have been extended credit with the Empire. I can also press spacers from civilian vessels provided I do not leave them in distress for want of crew. Any ships we take can be commandeered and put into service with a commission on my authority and I can issue letters of marque to any captain I judge to be worthy of such. On top of all of that, I am able to issue legal commands to officers of the Fleet provided I either out rank them or am superior to them in seniority. There are some restrictions, but generally speaking, I now have the authority to act as I see fit so long as I do not hinder the efforts of the Fleet."

"This means that we can go and find me da?" Fidda asked daring to hope for the first time in days.

"Yes, my dear, it does," Amelia said with a confident smile. "I'm afraid, though, that there is more to it. After we rescue your father I am bound by this contract to serve out the rest of the war or until I am relieved by order of the Empress."

"When do we leave?" Delbert asked. He was clearly torn between going with his wife and leaving his children behind.

"I think tomorrow," Amelia said draining her whiskey. "We'll make for Montressor with the _Queen_ and the _Morsa_. We'll pick up a few local spacers I trust so that we can at least sail the Smollette. Then we go and get the one thing we need most."

"And what's that?" Fidda asked.

Amelia's green eyes sparkled as she answered, "Mr. Weyt."

* * *

><p>Jack strolled in just before dinner smiling amiably. He had good news.<p>

"I found three fellows to join our crew, Amelia."

"Three?" Amelia asked skeptically. "Where did you find them, Jack?"

"Oh, out and about," Jack hedged. "You know me, Amelia."

"Does that mean you found them in a tavern?" she asked dryly.

"You do know me!" Jack's smile, selected from his extensive and varied inventory of facial expressions, was broad and boyish, suffusing his face with an air of innocence. When pressed about where he had been Jack was more vague than usual. His smile changed to that shifty, gold laced one that said he had been up to something but no one would ever get the truth from him. Amelia let it drop. She would see what sort of spacers he had recruited in the morning. If they did not suit her she would send them packing.

Conversation during the meal was animated, revolving around Amelia's new commission and the voyage back to Montressor. The children were naturally concerned about their parents leaving them again for an extended period but they were somewhat mollified by the prospect of visiting with Mrs. Hawkins again. When given his choice of staying with the children or going on the rescue mission Broad Foot was torn. He had grown very fond of the little ones but he wanted to see as much of the galaxy as he could before eventually returning to his home. After a brief, whispered debate the children decided for him. Broad Foot was to go and look after their parents. The three girls and their brother assured him that they would be fine but their parents were known to get lost and they knew that Broad Foot would bring them back if no one else could.

The meal lasted a little longer than had been their routine in the past few days. It was as if they didn't want the time to slip by. Everyone felt the need to get on and find John Silver but they had been through so much over the last month. Each felt the strain in their own way. Fidda's anxiety obviously revolved around finding her father. For Delbert and Amelia their main concern was leaving the children again. Alamimo and Lh'aer'ri felt as though they were not doing their part for the Empire, yet they also felt committed to Amelia. Jack and Anamaria both wanted to get home and were restrained only by their feelings of obligation. Brraadtt was simply concerned for the Commodore. Broad Foot worried for the children. The children were worried about all of them but most of all they worried about their parents.

Around the table that evening they all told stories and laughed. They wanted more than anything to just enjoy each other's company and store the feelings away for a time when such memories would serve better than any medicine could. Eventually the children began to yawn and the magic of the evening had to come to an end. Reluctantly they each made their way to different parts of the apartments to nurse their concerns until dawn.

* * *

><p>"Where were you today, Jack, really?" Anamaria asked. She looked hard at him remembering his mood of the previous day. Once again they were on the great balcony overlooking the city. The night breeze drifted by them as majestic ships cruised through the lamp-lit air.<p>

"I needed the company of me own kind, luv," Jack replied with the same impervious smile he had given everyone earlier.

"And you found it?" she asked with no hint that she believed him.

Jack looked down into his glass with a contemplative frown. He rolled the glass between his palms before he lifted it and sipped. His eyes slid to her. He knew that she knew he was not telling the full story. What to tell her? Little truth? Big lie?

"Not really," Jack finally said and swallowed the rest of his liquor. "I met the same sort I always seem to meet in places like this. They're diverting but their company soon fails to satisfy."

He rose and went through the tall doors into the apartments. Anamaria sat looking out over the lights of the city. She wished she were back home just then. She wished she were nothing more than the simple smuggler she had been before Jack had knocked on her door in the dead of that distant night. A tear came to her eye when she remembered Mommy Kioni with her old, threadbare dress and her cane by the fire sipping rum and laughing until her whole body shook. She missed the smells of the cook fire and the stew pot and the spices hanging from the lintel of the window where they could dry in the sun. She even missed the stink of the harbor at low tide when Mommy Kioni would send her to hunt for the crabs that scuttled about in search of food. She thought she would trade all of these adventures just to go home. Then a face came to her mind. A handsome face that she had not thought of in days. The struggle to escape from Azha had driven it from her but now it rushed back with poignant clarity. A young man's face framed by chestnut brown hair with a smile so sweet you would never suspect it belonged to so fierce a naval officer. Brave, charming, confident yet surprisingly shy when they had snatched a few moments alone. She remembered his promise and the promise she had made to him. From around her neck she took the golden chain upon which hung the locket. Snapping it open activated the magic images of him. Before her eyes in miniature stood Lieutenant Jim Hawkins dressed in his finest Fleet officer's uniform with his sword and pistol. Quickly she snapped it shut and kissed the locket before returning the chain to her neck. She held the little pendant tightly and knew that she would not trade all of her adventures to go home. Not all of them. Anamaria rose and followed Jack into the apartment still wondering what he had really been up to.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV**

They met Jack's recruits on the dock the next day. Anamaria's first impression of them was not particularly favorable, but then she had seen worse and these were typical examples of the sort of men Jack would recruit. The dark grey one didn't look all that smart but it was hard to tell with some of these creatures. The broad shouldered one with purple hair (or maybe it was a hat) and long arms seemed indifferent to Anamaria. The tall, slim one with the dark cloak and broad hat put Anamaria on her guard instantly. She didn't trust anyone much but it would be a cold day in Hell before she let herself relax around that one.

Amelia had them stand shoulder to shoulder at attention with their backs straight and chins held high. She questioned each about parts of the ship and what duties they had performed on other vessels. They gave satisfactory answers to everything and passed her knot tying test easily. Anamaria wasn't surprised that Amelia accepted them and had their names read into the book. She made them swear an oath of allegiance to her, the ship and above all, to the Empire. Once all of these things were done she commanded them to stow their gear and report to Mr. Brraadtt for orders.

Amelia had taken measures to secure the services of Lieutenants Alamimo and Lh'aer'ri as well as Master Brraadtt. Her crew would not be composed entirely of amateurs. She had retained Alamimo as her personal aid and since Lh'aer'ri was on extended medical leave, having lost his leg in addition to the previous losses of his arms and half an eye, he was more or less free to act as he chose. Amelia took him on as her personal charge to protect him from being called back to some other service until he chose to leave her. This was not usual but it was well within regulations.

The trip to Montressor was uneventful. The Etherium scrolled by as one gigantic tapestry of stars with the suns growing as they approached and diminishing as they passed on to catch the solar winds of the next system. The ships gave no problems. All seemed well. For some reason, this made Lh'aer'ri uncomfortable. Alamimo found him pacing the forecastle late in the third watch one evening.

"Is your leg bothering you again?" she asked.

"It's no' me leg." Lh'aer'ri stumped a couple of steps to the rail. "What do ye see out there, Alamimo?"

"The stars. The planets. A few ships." She narrowed her eyes to scan more intently for a moment. "What is it that you see?"

"It's what I don't see," Lh'aer'ri grumbled. "This is one of the main convoy routes, isn't it?"

Alamimo considered that for a moment. She looked about again but she saw only a few civilian vessels. Since leaving the Capitol they had passed only one lumbering military transport. There were no such ships in sight now. With the war on there should have been dozens if not hundreds of ships sailing at top speed for the various ports where they and there cargos were most needed. Yet for as far as the eye could see there was nothing but this meager scattering of civilians.

"Ye're a navigations specialist, right?" Lh'aer'ri demanded. "Could the routes have been changed? Are there shorter or faster lanes that transports and warships could be taking?"

"No." Alamimo knew that this was among the primary arteries that would carry the life's blood of the Fleet to the front. There should have been at least a few patrol craft, if nothing else. "What do you think it means?"

"Either we're out of ships," Lh'aer'ri said. "Or those ships aren't where they should be."

"Have you mentioned this to the Commodore?" Alamimo asked.

"I will in the morning," Lh'aer'ri replied. "Until a few minutes ago I hadna' realized what was bothering me. I've been too used to peacetime conditions I suppose."

Lh'aer'ri wasn't the only one troubled during what should have been an easy trip. Brraadtt was teaching Broad Foot how to man the helm when he first noticed that no matter where Captain Sparrow was, one of his recruits was always within earshot of him. If Captain Sparrow wasn't on deck then one of the recruits would be as close to the Commodore as he could get. On a ship as small as the _Queen_ it was difficult to get any privacy but these three seemed to be actively working against it.

To thwart this indecent activity, Brraadtt began to give them duty assignments that would place them all below decks or in the rigging whenever he could do so without seeming to be hazing or abusing them in any way. All too often one or another of the recruits would find some excuse or other to break away from such duties. Without openly confronting them about it Brraadtt was limited in how he could handle the situation without breaking protocol. Maybe it was nothing, but the last time a crew had acted strangely there had been nearly too much trouble to deal with. He decided to remain watchful until they made port at Montressor. There he would tell the commodore. She would know how to attend to this.

They sailed the _Queen_ and the _Morsa_ along the convoy routes at the highest speed the older ship could sustain. In this way they covered the distance to Montressor in half the time it had taken them to reach Azha. Upon arriving they met Mrs. Hawkins. Amelia had sent word ahead so that she could prepare for them. After the little ones said their goodbyes to everyone Mrs. Hawkins took charge of them not letting on that she was more than a little concerned for her old friends. The children tried to be brave but when it came time to part from their mother and father the tears could not be held back. Amelia hugged them one at a time and then before turning to leave she embraced them all in one big hug. Delbert joined in, throwing his arms about all of them at once. They kissed them and promised soon to be home. Then Amelia and Delbert left to rejoin their crew.

The first thing they did after visiting the Doppler home and having a bite to eat was to go to the quay where the _Smollette_ was moored. As they approached they noted a slim figure in a pea coat standing at the foot of the gangplank.

"Mr. Closton?" Amelia asked surprised.

The bird-like bosun turned with twinkling eyes taking one limping step closer to the party as they approached. He saluted smartly before extending his feathered hand in greeting. Amelia took it and shook it firmly with a smile on her face.

"It's very good to see you on your feet, Closton, but what are you doing here?" she asked.

"I've come to join your crew if you'll have me, Ma'am," Closton said.

"How did you know I was in need of men?"

"Master Spacer Brraadtt sent me a message asking that I bring what help I could, Ma'am," Closton said with a friendly gesture towards his old crew mate. "I've come with two of my sons and three of my wives."

"Wives?"

"Aye, Ma'am." Closton stood a little straighter. "I wouldn't have brought them if they couldn't hold their own. Two are nurses and will serve well as surgeons in a pinch. The third is the best cook you're likely to find. They can mend and splice with the best of them, too. As can the boys. They'll learn everything else on the way. I'll see to it. I sent them into town to begin gathering provisions."

"If you're well enough to sail with me, why did you not rejoin the Fleet?" Amelia asked. She did not wish to draw such experienced spacers as Closton away from their rightful duty.

"They won't have me, Ma'am." Closton patted his leg. "Doctors say I'm too banged up for the front and the recruiting office says I don't have the education to teach. I'm no clerk, Ma'am. I'm a fighting spacer and that's the truth of it."

"Then you shall have your old post, Bosun Closton." Amelia clapped him on the shoulder and introduced him to those he had not met before. Jack was very glad to see this spacer who had saved his life nearly at the cost of his own. Anamaria hugged the old bird and kissed his cheek. When it came time for Broad Foot to be introduced the little Raposa cowered behind Brraadtt until the Clevari, who had been practicing the speach of the Folk, explained with a series of clicks, whistles, growls and warbles that Closton was a friend and not a predator. With unusual reserve Broad Foot cast his arms about Closton's legs in the manner of greeting of the Folk. He quickly withdrew to a safe distance where he kept a watchful eye on the bird.

The _Smollette_ had been tended to after the return to Montressor but she had not been lived upon. She was clean and in good order, though her power plant was cold. The cabins were in fair shape having been returned to a serviceable condition at Situla by the wrights of the Fleet base there. Amelia set Lh'aer'ri to inventorying what stores they had and put Brraadtt and Closton to reactivating the drive. Alamimo took charge of the deck with Broad Foot at her side. Jack and Anamaria along with the three new men ascended the masts and began the arduous task of making the sails ready for service. Knots had been left too long and they needed hand spikes to wrench them loose. After sending several messages into town Amelia and Delbert went to the navigational array to update the charts and run the diagnostic system check. Everyone was busy when Closton's family returned from their foray for supplies. They had a large cart that hovered on the dock as roustabouts brought the food stuffs on board. The crew was diverted from their tasks to carry the boxes, crates and hogsheads below. A few men trickled in over the next few hours in answer to Amelia's summonses. They stowed their gear and lent a hand with the supplies. Late in the evening they had accomplished as much as could be done until the damage from the battle could be repaired. They were missing guns, cable and crystals but the Smollette would be ready to sail when Amelia was ready to give the order.

Brraadtt sent the three suspicious spacers to organizing the cable tier when the important work had been completed. It would take them until supper time to get things sorted out down there. Brraadtt then made his way unobtrusively to the helm where Amelia was busy with the navigation array.

"Commodore?" he asked deferentially.

"What is it, Mr. Brraadtt?" Amelia asked looking up from the display.

Brraadtt got right to the point as was his habit. He explained what he had observed and what he had done about it to this point.

"A little paranoid, perhaps?" Amelia asked gently.

Brraadtt blinked at her then said, "Brraadtt is Clevari."

The old spacer might have meant that Clevari did not get paranoid. Or he might simply not know what the word paranoid meant. The Trade Language was not his native tongue, after all. Amelia decided that her Master Spacer was very likely not imaginative enough to be paranoid. It often surprised her that Brraadtt could be so effective at gathering intelligence. He acted so overtly that most people ignored him entirely. They assumed he was just a stupid Clevari and therefore was no danger to them. Most spies had to fake their nonchalant attitude. Brraadtt really was nonchalant. He didn't need to fake anything. Just by being himself he blended right into the background. And he was a rarity. He learned from mistakes as soon as he made them. Not only that. He learned from other's mistakes when he witnessed them. Perhaps that was why he made such a good helmsman, as well.

"Very well, Mr. Brraadtt," Amelia said evenly. This news combined with the obvious lack of shipping that she had noted, which Lh'aer'ri had confirmed, made her wonder. "Keep an eye on them and if they change their habits, let me know without being too open about it. I think it is well that we keep a weather eye on these spacers for the moment. I will speak with Captain Sparrow when I am able. They are his men and if we get another ship they will serve under his command."

At dawn the next morning _Smollette_ rose from the quay under full sail. She rocked a bit in the stiff breeze but the new crew members quickly trimmed her sails and she rode on an even keel as the planet's surface dropped away below them. They made orbit and held their heading until the _Morsa_ sailed out of the space port and swung into position off their larboard quarter. Amelia adjusted course and the two ships struck out across the ether for parts unknown. At least they were unknown to any of the inhabitants of Montressor. Amelia had seen fit to play her hand close to her chest this time. Everyone noticed that she was being unusually reticent about this voyage. They themselves were reluctant to speak to anyone outside of the crew.

"You've been remarkably quiet, Commodore," Jack said to her in the mid-watch. He was taking a turn at the wheel while Brraadtt was below eating. Closton's third wife had taken the position of ship's cook very seriously and was doing an excellent job of it.

"I know I have, Captain." Amelia was gazing out at the stars off the port beam, lost in thought. She had noticed the tall, dark spacer on the deck below idling about. This was not the time to speak to Jack about what Brraadtt had observed. "I'm not a recruiting officer, Jack. What do I say to get men to join me on this venture? I don't want to press them. I won't lie to them. What do I do?"

"Aye," Jack said with rare compassion. "I try to tell the truth as far as possible. But then I'm not an honest man and you are. Um... Well, you're an honest woman, I mean."

Amelia gave him an amused glance, though her heart wasn't in it. She stepped to the chart display but she wasn't really looking at it.

"Tell them the truth, Amelia," Jack said. "Tell them the whole truth. Tell them what you expect and what you intend. Then tell them what they'll get for it."

"A spacer's pay and very likely a spacer's funeral?" Amelia snorted with a rueful shake of her head.

"You've been a sailor most of your life but you don't know what the common crewman really wants, do you?" Jack asked a little more forcefully. "They want money and privateers make more than navy men. They want grog and good food. They want to walk into a tavern and buy the whole house a round of drinks. They want a leader to follow. They want adventure and stories to tell. They want to be legends among their friends and family back home. They want to live to tell those tales. A lot of them just want to prove to everyone that they have what it takes to be called men."

"And they'll sign on for this cruise to get all that?" Amelia smiled wanly. "Fools."

"Aren't we all?" Jack chuckled. "Commodore Amelia, you joined the Fleet to serve but I think you wanted more than mere service. I think you wanted adventure and to prove to yourself as much as to anyone else that you could do the things you've done."

"I did not join the Fleet to risk my neck unnecessarily, Captain," Amelia said sharply.

"No. But you did join because you're father and your grandfather and your great grandfather and how many others joined?"

Amelia sighed and the anger drained from her. "I did."

"And me father was a captain, too," Jack admitted. "Greatest pirate that ever lived. What I wanted was to be able to look him in the eye and say I had done what he had done. I wanted to measure up, you see?"

"And these men that I am to recruit will want to measure up?"

"They already do, even if they don't know it yet." Jack made a slight adjustment to their course. "Why would they be on a ship if they weren't looking for adventure? Some are just trying to get to a new place, but that in itself is a sort of desire for adventure. They want more of what they don't yet have."

"And what is that?" Amelia asked. She was beginning to see Jack's point. She wanted to believe him and if she were truthful with herself, she did believe him.

"They want what I want." Jack looked her in the eye. "They want freedom."

Late in the third watch the lookout called down from the masthead. A ship had been sighted. Amelia altered course to intercept it. Jack watched as the vessel came into view. It was large and ungainly. Lights flickered all across its flanks and its massive sails shimmered in the ever reaching night of the Etherium. He soon realized that the ship was many times larger than the _Smollette_. She carried five huge masts stretched taught with an acreage of sails the like of which he had seen only on the _IGS Majestic_. Had he been in the right frame of mind, this vessel would have made quite the prize for a pirate crew. Upon her bow, in letters taller than a man, was written her name: _Glorious_. It was certainly a fitting name.

"Mr. Closton," Amelia called from the helm. "Run up my pennant and signal her to reduce speed."

Closton hobbled across the deck gamely to the signal station and quickly ran the appropriate flags up the mast. It was a few minutes before the _Glorious_ reduced her speed. _Smollette_ slid in alongside her at hailing distance.

"Identify yourself," ordered an officer in a fancy civilian uniform.

Closton called back with all the affronted authority of the old spacer he was, "Commodore Amelia commanding the brig of war _Smollette_. Prepare to receive the commodore's party."

From where he stood at the rail Jack observed the confusion on the mighty ship's deck. Men, women and things in frilly garments began to wander to the near rail to examine these two small, scruffy looking ships and learn what it was that had caused their voyage to be so rudely interrupted. He smirked at their looks of disdain and clear expressions of disapproval.

"Come along, Captain Sparrow," Amelia said as she passed him on her way to her launch. "Most of these people have never seen a genuine Hero of the Empire. Two should be a treat and we might as well give them something to look at."

She climbed into the small boat and settled down next to Brraadtt by the tiller. Alamimo sat on the next thwart and Jack chose to sit next to her. He gripped the edge of the thwart, well remembering the last time he and Amelia had set out in this little vessel. As they lifted from the deck he noticed Alamimo cast a glance towards the bridge of the _Morsa_. Was that a smug little smile she cast at Fidda?

"What is this about, Commodore?" demanded an officious looking seal-faced creature in a gilded white uniform and ostentatious hat that might have been nearly as expensive as the ship he commanded. There had been no pipes sounded when Amelia had stepped from her launch and she was scowling fiercely.

"Captain, is this the manner in which you greet all of your Fleet guests?" Amelia asked icily.

The captain stiffened, eyes narrowing, whiskers twitching. Clearly he was not accustomed to being rebuked for lack of proper etiquette and certainly was not used to being addressed so by anyone aboard his own ship.

"I am an official member of the Galactic Fleet sworn to defend this Empire and I am due a show of respect. It would serve you well to remember that in the future." Amelia reached into her new jacket with its gold braid and came out with the folded leather wallet that held her credentials. She opened it and handed the packet to the captain of the _Glorious_. His whiskers fluttered as he read over them and his eyes narrowed again as they traveled down the page. When he turned to the second page those narrowed eyes flew wide and his jaw dropped. Instantly he snapped to rigid attention. His disapproval was now replaced by fear and awe.

"My sincerest apologies, Commodore Amelia!" he stammered. "I had no idea who you were. May I escort you to my stateroom?"

"Very well." Amelia ascented. She drew a slip of paper from her pocket and handed this to the captain also. "Send for this man. Have him report to your stateroom"

The captain read it then handed it to a young officer before turning and escorting the company down the main gangway where they found the primary companionway that led to the captain's suite. His servant gave them a brief, disapproving glance when they entered but quickly put on his most humble and deferential expression when the captain instructed him to serve the best claret. Rich, red liquor in fine cut crystal goblets was being served when the young officer knocked and entered with Mr. Weyt at his heels.

Like the first time Jack had seen Mr. Weyt the shipwright was wearing baggy coveralls liberally smudged with grease and grime. The man was in his sixties, perhaps, but fit and quick of eye. He took in the tableau at a glance. His mouth spread into a smile. His eyes twinkled with the understanding that something was up.

"Mr. Weyt," said the captain of the _Glorious_. "Commodore Amelia has specially requested to speak with you. She is here in her official capacity. Answer smartly and you shall have no cause to regret it."

"Thank you, Captain," Amelia said with an irritated look. "If you will please call a general assembly of your crew, I wish to address them momentarily."

"Commodore?" The captain clearly was reluctant to allow her to do any such thing.

"Carry on, Captain," Amelia said turning from him to Mr. Weyt. "I see you have been keeping busy."

The captain left in a huff.

"Aye, Commodore," Weyt said with a slight smile upon his face at the discomfort of his officer. "This ship needs a lot of looking after. She's a good vessel but awfully huge, ma'am."

"So I have seen," Amelia said with the slightest of smiles. "You remember Captain Sparrow and of course you already know Mr. Brraadtt."

Weyt nodded to both and congratulated Brraadtt on his promotion before turning to Alamimo. Amelia made formal introduction before she went on to the main point of her reason for intercepting the _Glorious_. She described what she intended and why she wanted him. Weyt stayed quiet the whole time, nodding as she described the condition of the _Smollette_.

"What I intend is to go to Mhoth for refit," Amelia said handing him a glass of claret. "There should be more than enough parts to go 'round and we might be able to pick up another ship. A week of work in their yards and we'll be ready to sail for the Expanse."

"Beggin' your pardon, Commodore, but I doubt it." Mr. Weyt sipped from his glass and rubbed his chin. "If they even have room in their yards for your ships they won't want to spare you the space. We'd also have to deal with dock masters and any number of requisition forms. You'd be the better part of a month there if not longer."

"You have a better suggestion?" Amelia asked.

"Go to the decommissioning yards, ma'am." Weyt set his glass aside and rolled a map down on the chart table. He tapped a few keys on it and there sprang up a hologram of the yards at Mhoth. "We go here, ma'am, and collect parts that haven't yet been refurbished. Cannon, crystals, cables, ship's boats, whatever else you need, Commodore. What isn't laying out yet we can salvage from the hulks. There are at least a thousand ships there not worth repairing but they still have plenty of components worth our time. One requisition order and we can take whatever we want from there. All we have to do is inventory the parts as we collect them and then sign for them. As far as they're concerned it's all junk anyway. But to us it's gold."

"All of the ships are hulks?" Amelia asked.

"All but one, Commodore."

"All but one?" Amelia saw a look of amusement pass over the old man's face. "What's wrong with her?"

"Well, ma'am," Weyt replied with a grim chuckle. "I've never been on her and don't rightly know what's wrong with her. She's a leftover from the Procyon War. A little prize corvette with the usual Procyon lines. Wicked she looks, ma'am. _The Witch of Mirzam_ she's called."

"_The Witch of Mirzam_?" Amelia smiled. "If I recall correctly, she was taken when we retook Smathloon. They didn't have enough men to man all of their vessels and left her to us. She should be intact. Twelve years of neglect in a breakers yard can't have done her any good, though. She'll be a bit of a challenge for you, Mr. Weyt. Where would we get parts?"

"If there is anything wrong with her she should have all of her mechanical stores in her hold, Commodore," Mr. Weyt said. "Our parts won't match her works. I doubt there has been any more than some souvenir hunting aboard her. And most likely very little of that."

"What makes you say so?" asked Amelia.

"She's supposed to be haunted, ma'am."

Amelia and Alamimo chuckled but Jack, Brraadtt and Weyt were not so dismissive of such sailor's talk. Luck and spirits were a large part of the sailor's belief system. Myth and legend were as important to them as reason and fact. Jack, most of all, had good cause to respect such tales. He remained thoughtful even after the steward came to inform Amelia that the crew had been assembled.

"Spacers of the _Glorious_," Amelia called out to the white clad crew. Thousands of men stood below her upon the main deck between the main and the mizen masts. On the periphery were a gathering of civilians. "Our Empire is at war. Our Fleet is holding its own and victory is inevitable. However, we must have more men to man our ships. We must have more ships to hold our frontiers. We must have more of everything before the final victory over the Mhinm can be achieved. I have been given commission as Commodore of Privateers. Whereas the regulation Navy can hold on to our frontiers it can not yet conduct raids as it would like. It is my intention to free up the Navy to deal with the threat of enemy fleets encroaching on our boarders. I am assembling ships and crews to strike at the pirate fiefs in the Muliphein Expanse. If we can take the pressure off bases like Situla and Mhones and thereby reduce their need to patrol, the Fleet can redeploy those vessels to the main front where they are sorely needed. I must have men to man my ships but I will not press you. Free men fight better. I can offer you hardship, long hours and short supplies. I can also offer you prize money. Join my crews and you will earn your pay and risk your lives, but in return, each man will receive a share of every prize twice that of any spacer in the Fleet. You will face more danger and have many more tales to tell and booty to spend. Any man who signs articles with me will be expected to do his duty. I will have no slackers or favorites aboard any of my ships. Each man will be justly compensated. All who wish to join me need to report to Mr. Weyt at the larboard rail in ten minutes. Thank you and may the Empire be victorious!"

As Amelia turned she glanced at Jack who gave her an approving nod.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter V**

It had been an hour since Amelia had spoken to the gathered spacers on the deck of the _Glorious_. She had been uncertain how many men if any she would convince to join her expedition. Mr. Weyt had taken the names of one-hundred-thirty-two and entered them into the ship's book. They were of all kinds. Everything from a few pursers and stewards to hard-bitten old topmen that had seen a blow or two in their lives. With any luck she would be getting a number of old Fleeters with real combat experience.

As she watched the latest boatload of white clad spacers debark the launch with their duffels and chests she caught sight of a young Heliwrian in civilian dress. Amelia frowned and descended the ladder to the main deck.

"You there," she called loudly pointing at the young civilian. "Step out of that line and report."

Wide eyed, the young Heliwrian stepped quickly across the deck and gave an inexpert salute that Amelia grudgingly returned. The civilian stood rigidly at a semblance of attention without speaking. Like all Heliwr, he was slim with very broad shoulders. His nose-less face gave the appearance of a ball mask with its smooth planes and sharp angles. His clothing spoke of wealth and privilege. The tint of his carapace spoke of his youth.

"I said, 'Report', young man," Amelia said coolly.

"Um... I don't know what that means," the boy admitted lamely. Tall, slim and literally green the youth seemed far too young to join any professional crew. He would have a great deal to learn before any use could be made of him.

"First lesson, Mister, is that you address me as Commodore or Ma'am," Amelia fairly growled. Her eyes glinted green under the light of the nearest star. "Second lesson is that when you are ordered to report to an officer you snap to it. You tell the officer your name and rank."

"Yes, Ma'am! Sorry, Ma'am!" The boy was physically shaking. Had he been Human or a similar race he would have been sweating. "I'm Ietepere Kaholo, Ma'am. I don't have a rank yet."

"How old are you, Mr. Kaholo?" Amelia asked in yet another growl.

"I'm eighteen seasons, Ma'am."

"Lying to me is a very bad idea, Mister," Amelia said as if she were considering biting his head clean off his shoulders.

"No, Ma'am!"

"No what?" Amelia snarled.

"MA'AM!" the boy yelped misunderstanding her.

"You aren't making any sense, boy." Irritated, Amelia paced back and forth in front of the young Heliwrian. "Tell me how old you are. Tell me who your parents are."

"Eighteen seasons, Ma'am," the boy said. "My parents are Kainoa Kaholo, Ma'am."

Amelia stopped dead in her tracks and stared at him. When Heliwr wed they assumed a single name that the offspring would use as a sir name until such time as they wed. Each name was unique and Amelia was very familiar with this particular name. For a moment she could not speak. Finally, she drew herself in and looked every inch the combat professional.

"Do you mean to tell me that your father is Secretary of Commerce Kaholo?" she asked looking him full in the eye.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good lord, boy!" Amelia barked. "Just what the hell are you doing coming aboard my ship?"

Kaholo swallowed as if he had something stuck in his throat.

"You do realize that this is a warship, don't you?" Amelia snapped. "We aren't going on a pleasure cruise. We're going to kick the living hell out of the pirates in the Expanse. We're going in there to do battle with some of the toughest cutthroats you'll ever meet. This is not a cruise for a politician's son on holiday."

"I understand that, Ma'am," the boy said quailing back from her sudden wrath. "Please don't make me go back, Ma'am. You see, my father wanted me to go to the Capitol where I would be safe, but I don't want to be safe. All of my friends have already joined the Fleet, Ma'am. I wanted to go but my father refused. He pulled some strings and now I can't get into the Fleet at all. I'm ashamed, Ma'am. But if I could go with you then at least I could face my friends when I see them after the war. I don't want to be known as the politician's son who wouldn't fight. Legally I'm old enough to decide that for myself, Ma'am."

Amelia's frown deepened. This was a prickly purp if ever she had found one. She narrowed her eyes as if judging the distance to a target. Finally she called to Mr. Weyt to bring her the ship's book. Amelia ran her finger down the list until she came to the line with Kaholo's name. She peered at it for a long moment then showed the entry to the boy.

"How do you pronounce that?" Amelia asked calmly.

"Kaholo, Ma'am," the boy said softly uncertain.

"Really?' She looked at the entry again. "I would pronounce it Kaholo."

Ietepere frowned at her alteration of the stresses of his name. He was about to argue with her when he caught her look. Then he straightened again but would not let himself smile.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said. "Kaholo it is."

"Very well, Mr. Kaholo," she said and snapped the book shut. "Join your mates. Learn your duties well and do not be a fool. It is not only your life you are risking. The crew of this ship will need every hand before the war is done. And just to be clear; You will have no privilege on my vessel. Step out of line and you will be treated as any other spacer aboard."

"I understand, Ma'am," Kaholo replied. "Thank you, Ma'am."

* * *

><p>Four days later the two ships came in sight of Mhoth and its graving yards. In orbit were dozens of ships. Some were the massive battle craft known as ships of the line. Others were swift little frigates, brigs, sloops and corvettes. They were gathered into flotillas ready to receive their crews. As the <em>Smollette<em> and the _Morsa_ circled to the far side of the planet Jack was amazed to see the number of ships covering the surface. Mhoth was not a large world, but the sheer numbers of vessels boggled the mind. If all of these hulks could be made to sail and crewed with even the most inexperienced crews the Empire could overwhelm the Mhinm in a matter of days.

Cresting the horizon they spotted the massive orbiting structure of the Mhoth graving docks where the final repairs would be conducted. This included replacing masts and the great nets of rigging needed to keep them in place. As the two small brigs proceeded they were challenged by a cutter. The old lieutenant in command of her did not recognize Amelia's red standard with the stylized head of a great hunting cat that flew below the white ensign of the Empire. Amelia had had it made when she had commissioned the _Smollette _with the intent of posing as a pirate in order to find and rescue her husband. Now, with the addition of the Imperial seal in the upper corner, it would serve as her personal standard.

Amelia allowed the cutter to come along side and met the lieutenant at the rail. He was a human and walked with a rolling limp that spoke of long service in the Fleet. As far as she could determine he was well passed the age of retirement.

"Lieutenant Grimm, Ma'am," the man introduced himself with a salute. "Welcome to Mhoth. I'm honored to meet you. It's my duty, though, to ask your business, Commodore."

Amelia returned his salute then handed him a sheaf of papers containing the inventory she would require. "I need parts, Lieutenant. I intend to collect them with my crews and use my own men to see to their disposition."

"I understand, Ma'am," Grimm said as he examined each sheet. He seemed to be wheezing with every breath as though the few steps from his little cutter had tired him unduly. Perhaps he was chronically short of breath. "Your papers look in order, Commodore. You'll need to submit these for approval at the administrative offices. I don't think there will be any trouble about it but there may be something of a wait. Too many things to do there I suppose but it does seem to take a very long time to process paperwork.

Once Grimm returned to his little cutter _Smollette_ and _Morsa_ made way to the space port. They navigated through swarms of smaller vessels bound hither and thither among the docks all bristling with gantries and cranes. Men swarmed over some vessels while scarcely a man was to be seen on other ships. Here and there knots of men stood idle, smoking their long stemmed pipes or dicing behind crates. People of every race in the Empire were in evidence. It did seem strange that some of the work crews were so obviously unsuited to the tasks at which they were occupied. Tall Leftvorians were wedging themselves under deck guns to service the mountings. Short Clevari were set to tying off rigging lines well above their heads. A bulky Flatulan was set the unlikely task of routing conduit through a crawl space hardly big enough to contain him. Mr. Weyt could only stand at the rail blinking in utter incomprehension. This was madness.

Once _Smolloette_ was moored in the visitor's slip Amelia sent Mr. Weyt and Mr. Closton to the administrative department. They returned half an hour later with the news that they were unable to schedule an appointment with the administrator. Amelia then sent Lieutenant Alamimo with Mr. Weyt. Perhaps the insignia of the young officer would get them through the door. It was not to be, though. When they returned Alamimo reported that they had gotten to the third set of offices before they were told that it would be most convenient if they would return in three days to schedule an appointment for some time next week.

A few minutes later Commodore Amelia emerged from her cabin in full regalia. She looked every inch the professional spit and polish officer and the glint in her eye caused the masses on the docks to steer well clear of her. Followed by Mr. Weyt and Lieutenant Alamimo she clove through the milling workers and administrative clerks like a frigate under full sail. With a leveled gaze she passed through the administration offices leaving nervous functionaries in her wake. At the doors to the Chief Administrator's offices she encountered her first setback in the form of a brass plated protocol robot.

"I'm sorry, Commodore Amelia," it said in its metallic voice. "The Chief Administrator is far too busy to see anyone today."

Without a word Amelia handed over her credentials. After reading the second page the robot literally began to rattle. Steam wafted from several of its vents. Lights flashed on and off on its chest.

"Please wait here a moment."

The robot turned and entered the offices. It took a minute for the robot to return with an assistant administrator.

"Commodore Amelia?" the woman asked. She was a C'Nyd. Tall and round with a very narrow, almost funnel-shaped face tapering from forehead to mouth in a smooth convex arc, she exuded the righteous attitude of a self important bureaucrat interrupted in the middle of something. "I am honored to meet you. However, I can not allow the Chief Administrator to be interrupted at this time."

"Are you a civilian contractor?" Amelia asked politely.

"Of course I am, Commodore," the C'Nyd responded with just enough of a hint of disdain to imply that Amelia was too dense to comprehend the importance of her position.

"Excellent!" Amelia smiled broadly. "You have many assistants?"

"It would be ever so difficult for me to do my job if I did not." The color was rising in the C'Nyd's cheeks. Would this officer not leave her alone?

"And they would be able to carry on if you were promoted?" Amelia's smile was unusually friendly.

"I have trained them all very well," said the C'Nyd pompously.

"Lieutenant Alamimo," Amelia said turning to the young Pajakian. "Have you that document about you that I drafted before we debarked?"

Puzzled, Alamimo drew the folded sheet from an inner pocket and handed it to her officer. Amelia unfolded it and still smiling handed it to the C'Nyd. The assistant administrator read it through with a growing look of puzzlement on her face.

"I'm sorry, Commodore," she said. "What is this?"

"That, dear lady, is an order of impressment." Amelia's voice was as sweet as it had ever been on any occasion.

"Impressment?" the C'Nyd chirped in confusion.

"I'm afraid you are now a member of my crew." Amelia's voice was still sweet but there was a harder edge to it than previously. "You will need a change of good clothing fit for long voyages. You will also need a small chest to stow your kit. We can certainly provide those items if you don't have them handy. They'll be taken out of your pay at the end of the month. What size shoe do you wear?"

"But this is preposterous!" cried the C'Nyd. "You can't do this!"

"If you read the documents in your right hand you will find that I am acting well within the scope of my authority," Amelia replied not sweetly at all. "I have two witnesses to avow that you stated there would be no trouble should you no longer be available to perform your current duties. You seem quite fit to me and you are of an acceptable age. You are a little plump but a few weeks aboard ship with three squares a day and all the work you can stand will soon remedy that."

Mr. Weyt took this moment to snap a photograph of the C'Nyd. It rolled out of the front of the camera with a click. The picture showed clearly the documents in the administrator's hands.

"But..." the C'Nyd said quite at a loss for words.

"Either that or you can take my credentials and get me an audience with your boss right now," Amelia growled. She held the photo where the woman could see it. The threat was evident. "Don't try to run. You could be hanged for desertion."

Needless to say, Amelia and company were seated in the chief administrator's office within a matter of minutes. He sat scowling behind his desk. The Chief Administrator was called Mr. Carl and he was a little man with sunken eyes and sweat stained clothing. His desk was piled high with forms. The filing cabinets around the large office were overflowing with papers. He even had a nervous tick under his right eye. Mr. Carl looked ill and under fed.

"That wasn't very nice, what you did, Commodore," The Chief Administrator grumbled.

"In case you are unaware, sir, there is a war on." Amelia was unapologetic.

"In case I'm unaware?" Mr. Carl responded with more fire and verve than would have seemed likely. "In case I'm unaware, Commodore? I think of all the people in the Empire I may be the one who is most aware of that fact! I know that our Fleet is in need of ships and crews better than anyone. I can tell you that with no fear of contradiction. Mhoth is putting out ships at the rate of twenty a day. We have them waiting in orbit. You saw them. The trouble is that there aren't any crews arriving to take them away. Twenty a day and I dare say we could double that output if we had some decent work gangs."

"There are hundreds of men idling on your docks," Amelia pointed out.

"I know," Carl said then popped a small green pill into his mouth. He rubbed his belly as though it were sore. "Hundreds of dock workers. Longshoremen who don't know the first thing about repairing ships. They can load cargo or move equipment around, but they aren't wrights. Worse yet is that the wrights I do get are all blacksmiths and carpenters, riveters and crystal cutters. They aren't trained shipwrights. They do their best and many are learning the trades we need but there are just not enough of the proper hands to get the job done."

"How have you addressed this issue?" Amelia asked with genuine concern. If the ships in orbit were truly ready for crews then there should have been enough spacers to ferry them to where they were needed.

"I sent my personal aid to the Capitol last month," Mr. Carl told her. "I gave him specific orders to see the Admiralty and get this sorted out, even if he had to take my case to the Empress Herself."

"A small man? Sallow of complexion? Dressed in a dark blue frock coat?" Amelia asked.

"Travors. That's him," confirmed Mr. Carl. "You know him?"

"He was in the waiting room outside the Imperial Apartments when I went to see the Empress."

Mr. Carl slumped back in his chair. He shook his head dejectedly. After a short time he looked up into Amelia's eyes.

"What am I going to do?" he groaned.

"Begin training your longshoremen to do more than stand around." Amelia settled back in her own chair and considered other options. "I take it that you need a written warrant from a serving officer of administrative grade to sign off on the transport of any vessels you have ready for delivery."

"I do," Carl confirmed unhappily.

"You have enough spacers to provide patrols for your facilities?"

"Five watches," Carl confirmed again.

"Five?" Amelia was surprised. "Are the days that long?"

"No. We were assigned five watches worth in case we needed to replace any spacers who might become too ill to perform their duties." Carl sagged just a little more in his chair. "You see? I get more of what I don't need than of what I do."

"I do see." Amelia saw all too clearly. "You could make do with just three watches then?"

Mr. Carl nodded.

"Hand me a blank page and something to write with." Amelia accepted the clean sheet of paper and the pen Mr. Carl passed to her. She wrote for a few minutes then signed the bottom. She handed the paper to Mr. Weyt who read it through before putting his name below hers. Alamimo did likewise then handed the form to the Chief Administrator.

Mr. Carl read through the document then looked up in surprise. "Can you do this?"

"I have the authority of the Empress to command any and all serving officers of the Fleet who I either out rank or am senior to. I dare say that the highest ranking Fleet officer here is a captain."

"No," Mr. Carl informed her. "He's only a commander."

"Then those orders can be issued without further delay, sir. Get your ships under way."

A light had blossomed in the Chief Administrator's eyes. He asked warmly, "What can I do for you, Commodore Amelia?"

* * *

><p>Brraadtt navigated towards an island off the coast of one of the continents that must have been the size of Great Britain on Earth. This island was not green, however. In fact, there were few places on Mhoth that had any vegetation at all. It was a wind blasted world, desolate and scorched by its near sun. Jack was sweating before they made planet fall. Upon seeing the ocean, though, his heart rose and he had be careful to retain his aloof reserve. Under the direction of Mr. Weyt the <em>Smollette<em> and the _Morsa_ cruised into the port at one quarter navigational speed. This place, unlike the areas of the planet Jack had seen from the air, was virtually deserted. Hulks rested on their keels. They lay canted at odd angles or hovered drunkenly in the winds that buffeted them. There were no work gangs here. _Smollette_ made for a small dock with a tumble down shanty at the landward end. She came to rest on one side of the dock and the _Morsa_ hove to on the other.

Amelia led the shore party through the blowing dust and wind, up the creaking planks over the brackish water where things glided just below the surface and finally to the door of the shanty. She looked about as though waiting for something to collapse. A knock at the door produced no answer from within so Mr. Weyt tried the knob and the door opened. Inside was a dim little untidy room lined with cabinets and shelves. In the middle was a large desk with a stack of books supporting a leg that had been broken off at some point. On the desk slept a round, disheveled figure rather like a burly goat. In its hand was a flask. An empty flask.

"Wake him, Mr. Brraadtt," Amelia said in disgust.

Brraadtt walked to the thing on the desk and shook him. There was no response. Brraadtt shook him again with the same result. Leaning in Brraadtt placed one of his miniscule ears upon the goat-thing's chest and listened for a moment. Yes. There was a heartbeat. Brraadtt shook him again. This time the result was a loud belch that stank of rank breath and hard liquor. Brraadtt looked to Amelia for instructions.

"May I, Commodore?" Jack asked before Amelia could suggest anything. She nodded and Jack stepped outside into the heat and wind. When he returned he carried a bucket in his grip. Brraadtt stepped clear and with a single motion Jack splashed the entire contents on the sleeping figure. This time there was a very gratifying result. Spluttering, coughing and cursing the damned, lame brained idiot whose mother was a something something-or-other that would something with something else for half a duckette, the goat thing rose to a sitting position on the desk wiping his eyes. When he saw Amelia in her full uniform he froze in place and blinked.

"Are you the officer of this yard?" Amelia asked. She did not even try to hide her disgust.

"There ain't no officer, Ma'am," the thing on the desk replied groggily. "I'm Quartermaster Grugh, Ma'am. I'm in charge of these hulks."

"Well, Quartermaster Grugh, Mr. Weyt here has a list of components we'll need. You are to assist him in locating them."

"Aye, Ma'am," Grugh said and slid to his hooves. He wobbled for a moment but did not topple over. "May I ask who will be collecting the components, Commodore?"

"Mr. Weyt will oversee that," Amelia said before turning and leaving.

The crews of the two ships were busily tearing parts from the various hulks scattered throughout the yard when Mr. Weyt drew the quartermaster aside to ask him about _The_ _Witch of Mirzam_.

"_The Witch_?" Grugh asked with narrowed, suspicious eyes. "What be ye wantin' of _The_ _Witch_?"

"We want a look at her, mate," said Jack and handed the quartermaster a bottle of purp brandy. "We might even be wanting to take her off your hands."

Grugh took a long swig from the bottle then eyed Jack. His laugh had no humor in it when he replied, "And welcome to her, ye'd be. Come on then. It's an hour's ride and we'd best get to her while the sun is still up. I won't go aboard her after nightfall."

They took one of the yard's decrepit, old launches on a heading north through the derelicts. Jack sat next to Mr. Weyt while his three recruits sat on the thwarts near the front of the little launch. A forest of masts and spars forced them to steer an erratic course. As they drew farther from the quartermaster's shack and closer to the _Witch_ the ships became dingier somehow. It was as if a gloom hung over this section of the yards. The ships had sunk to their keels. The mantabirds that had been frequent pests on the ships until now were in absence. Brown mosses hung in tendrils from the spars and there was no sound save that of the wind moaning a mournful refrain. Jack and Weyt became uneasy and it was clear that Grugh did not like this place. Only the tall, darkly clad spacer seemed unaffected by the atmosphere.

"It's like this the rest of the way to the _Witch_," Grugh said just loud enough for them to hear. "Ever since she was brought here this place has gotten worse. I noticed the mantabirds avoiding it first. They used to make their nests in the spars and the fighting tops but you won't find any now. They fly over this place, high up. It's like they're afraid of something. The pruts and geitz don't show themselves much neither. They're uncommonly cautious here abouts."

"Pruts and geitz?" Jack asked Weyt.

"Small animals," he said. "They get everywhere. Eat most anything you leave unattended. They can spoil a ship's stores if you don't smoke them out from time to time. Nasty little pests, they are."

"Ah, like rats and mice back home," Jack said.

_The_ _Witch of Mirzam_ was easy to spot among the derelicts. Out of all the vessels in this yard she was the only one that did not list or sag at anchor. The _Witch_ held an even keel. Her deck was clean of the debris so prevalent on the other vessels. If it were not for the complete desolation surrounding her, Jack thought, she would have looked a fine ship. Her lines reminded him of an ancient broadsword. She seemed to have a single deck with sixteen cannon lining her sides. Three masts were evenly spaced down her mid-line. She was sleek and black showing not a single glimmer of gold leaf or silver. Deadly, she looked and Jack was strangely attracted to her. Perhaps, it was because she reminded him of another black ship that he loved.

Grugh sailed alongside of the _Witch_ tossing the painter about one of the cleats amidship. Jack took hold of the shrouds and placed his foot upon the chains. He climbed cautiously over the rail somehow expecting the ship to react to his presence. When nothing happened he turned and gave a hand to Mr. Weyt. Grugh and the others reluctantly joined them on deck looking about as though they too expected some reaction from the deserted ship. No sound came to them save the wind.

"Like this every time I come aboard her, Captain," Grugh said softly.

"This is a strange ship, Captain," Mr. Weyt said almost under his breath.

Jack eyed them both. Clearly they were feeling cowed by this dark vessel and its air of mystery. But Jack was the Pirate Lord of the Caribbean and a Pirate Lord does not bow before the unknown. A Pirate Lord embraces it. Jack drew himself up to his full height and thrust out his chin. His eyes narrowed with determination. A sneer crossed his lips. He strode boldly aft toward the helm. Mr. Weyt and Mr. Grugh followed uncertainly leaving the three spacers by the rail. Coming to the deck hatch that would lead below Jack opened it and descended. The gloom was daunting but he pressed on to the aft cabins. Opening the door he half expected these rooms to be dark as the pit but found that the stern of this ship, like the ones of his Earthly experience, was composed of windows beyond which was a narrow gallery. He easily found the captain's private cabin. Strangely, it was clean. It felt as though the captain had just stepped out and would return in a moment. Jack felt as though someone were there only a heartbeat before he had opened the door. He listened but there was no sound except the wind outside. The_ Witch_ rocked gently at anchor and Jack could have been back on Earth with a rising tide ready to take him out to sea. His heart fluttered at the memories kindled then. How he wished he were free to go home. To smell the salt in the spray. To see gulls gliding along, snapping fish from the waves. To watch the dolphins at play in the bow wake of a fast ship as she cut her way across the sea to a new horizon. This was the ship to get him home.

"Mr. Weyt," Jack said with a note of reverence in his voice. "See about getting her in the air. She's not happy here."

"Aye, sir," Weyt said softly. He had seen this sort of reaction before. He knew what Jack was feeling even if he could not describe it.

Grugh drank again from the bottle Jack had given him. This strange captain might be pleased with the _Witch_ but the ship was all wrong. Still, he felt that there was something afoot with these privateers. He felt they had a purpose. What purpose, he did not know but the way they went about their business made him feel strange. He had not had a purpose in years. Once he had been a quartermaster in earnest. At the end of the Procyon War his services aboard ship were no longer needed. He had been retired to the breaker's yard just as so many vessels had been. With the new war Grugh had hoped to be posted to a new ship. But like so many of the vessels under his care he had been forgotten, left to decay without even the hope of providing spare parts. No one wanted him.

"Captain Sparrow?" Grugh said.

"Aye, mate?"

"When ye go," Grugh stammered. "Take me with ye. Ye'll be needin' a wright what knows this ship. I'm just about the only one you'll find."

"You'll sail aboard a haunted ship?" Jack asked. He turned slowly about to look upon the old quartermaster for the first time since he'd doused him with the bucket.

"I want to get out of this place, Captain," Grugh said more firmly. "Take me with ye and ye'll not regret it. I served in the last big war, sir. I'm a spacer not some dockyard clerk. I'll keep this old girl in fighting trim and she'll not let ye down so long as I'm aboard her. Haunted or no, she's a fine ship with plenty of fight left in her. Take me with ye, sir. Please."

Jack gazed at the goat-like creature before him. Like many men Jack had known over the years Grugh needed a second chance. Most men needed such. Jack stepped closer to him extending his hand.

"Welcome aboard, Mr. Grugh."

With wide, grateful eyes Grugh grasped Jack's hand in a hard grip and they shook. Jack had one loyal man. He would need more if he were ever to get home.

It took Mr. Weyt and Mr. Grugh an hour to bring the power plant back to life. The three spacers set the topsails to feed energy back into the cold capacitors. They disconnected the anchor cables and ran diagnostics protocols. It wasn't tough to figure out what needed to be done. What was tough, though, was reading Procyon. Eventually, the ship's drive was ready and they cast off her lines. She rose gracefully above the masts of the dead hulks about her. As she leveled off the sun was beginning to set. It cast a single ray beneath the distant clouds to light their way back south to where the _Smollette_ and the _Morsa_ lay.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI**

"My God, Jack!" Amelia exclaimed when she saw _The Witch of Mirzam_ come alongside the _Smollette_. "I've never seen one this close without it was firing at me or burning. She really is an impressive ship. How does she feel?"

"Restless, Commodore," Jack called from the bridge of the _Witch_. He was grinning his broad, golden grin that let anyone who saw it know that his inner child was in ascendance. Jack was genuinely happy to be at the helm of such a craft as this. Even the short cruise from her mooring had been a pleasure. The _Witch_ seemed to know where he wanted to go before he even touched the wheel to adjust course.

"Not as many guns on her as I would like but I dare say you'll make the most of them when the time comes, eh?" Amelia called back, pleased for her friend. "I'll assign a dozen crewmen to her as soon as we have the remaining parts on board."

"Aye aye, Commodore," Jack shouted and then gave her a hearty salute that she returned with a grin.

At Jack's request, Amelia granted Mr. Grugh permission to join the company of the _Witch_ when they departed Mhoth. She had Alamimo write up a Fleet resignation form and had Grugh sign it so that everything would be legal. Amelia doubted very much that Mr. Grugh would even be missed. To guard him against courts martial for desertion, however, she felt it was necessary to complete the form and submit it. Once that was done she had his name entered in the book and noted that he was assigned as Chief Wright of the _Witch_. That would protect him from any accusations of dereliction of duty. Should some officious lout decide to attempt prosecution it would turn into an uphill battle. How could Grugh be derelict if he had chosen to take a position on a fighting ship over the breaker's yard? Even at this, though, Amelia was not certain that Jack had made a wise choice in recruiting a drunkard.

Having thrown in with the privateers, Mr. Grugh readily lent a hand with gathering and stowing the parts and components. Indeed, his knowledge of the various ships and ship types proved quite valuable. He knew just where to go to get the best of everything. He even suggested stripping certain crystals from some of the ships. These he said were of excellent quality as they came from vessels built or refitted on worlds where the richest veins of crystal yielded flawless gems of the best quality in the Empire. Such crystals would conduct the power through the lines without reducing the flow beyond .0005 percent. Mr. Weyt knew just how to make the best use of these gems and immediately began installing them in place of the much inferior Mhinm crystals they had been forced to use to get _Smollette_ back to port after the battle.

On through the night the spacers worked. By the light cast from great lanterns they hauled cannon aboard the _Morsa_ and mounted them to the deck plates. They cut cable free from mounts and brackets inside hulks seventy years out of service. One work gang was set to dragging masts and spars from the hold of one derelict that had been wrecked but not broken up. She lay upon her side with her stores more or less intact but all tumbled together. From this graveyard of dead ships the crews pulled life giving parts for their own.

At dawn the last spool of cable had been reeled in and stowed. Spare masts were lashed in place and the holds were fairly bursting with extra parts and crystals. Should any of the ships need repairs they would not lack for anything. Tired as the crews were, Amelia had them set sails and with the _Smollette_ in the lead the little flotilla made for the docks of the space port to take on fresh water and as much food stuffs as Mr. Carl could spare. Amelia intended to give her crews a few hours rest while the longshoremen labored to fill the holds. She would trust Mr. Weyt to oversee the proper disposition of the goods coming aboard.

Once they had docked Delbert took it upon himself to go over to _The Witch of Mirzam_ and inspect her navigational charts. He had seen only a few examples of Procyon star charts and was eager to examine these in detail. It would be so interesting to discover what their calculations were and how accurately they had plotted the locations of the various points inside the Empire. Jack was more than welcoming when Delbert offered his assistance. He conducted Dr. Doppler to the captain's cabin where the main chart index could be accessed without intrusion by the crew as they kept their watch. Jack explained that he had some business ashore and with apologies, he excused himself.

Delbert was deep into his study of the foreign charts when he reached for his stylus in order to make a note. His fingers quested for it as he continued to decipher the meanings of the Procyon glyphs. After a moment he looked to where he knew the stylus must lay but it was not there. He looked on the floor thinking that he must have bumped it off of the desk. It wasn't there either.

"Now I know I had it just a moment ago," Delbert mumbled continuing his search. Finally he abandoned it and went to his satchel where he had several other styluses. Opening it, he discovered that not only was the missing stylus back in its holder but the entire contents of the satchel had somehow been straightened and put in very neat order. He certainly had not done it himself. "Well. What do you know about that?"

Eager to get back to his work Delbert picked the stylus out of the holder once more. He puzzled his way through the charts a parsec at a time. Feeling an ache in his back Delbert decided it was time for a break so he rose and went to the small tea brewing service against the bulkhead. In a matter of moments he had a fresh cup of a fine black tea steaming on the table next to the charts while he pondered away over the blue, red, purple and yellow dots the Procyon used to mark the locations of stars and planets. Silvery lines traced the currents of the Etherium and hazy blue bands marked the limits of known asteroid fields. A ship straying into such space would be taking an inordinate risk. Once more he absently reached for his stylus and found it missing. Odd. Instead of searching the floor and the desk this time he leaned over and opened his satchel. It occurred to him when he did this that he had not closed it previously. As he had expected, the sought for stylus was back in its holder. Thinking that he had been awake too long Delbert decided to leave his work as it was until after he had caught up on his sleep. He drained the remainder of his tea in a single gulp then set the cup and saucer aside while he packed his note book away. With everything back in his satchel Delbert reached for the teacup. It was not where he had left it. Delbert very cautiously got to his feet and went to the door. Looking down at the automated tea service he saw the cup and saucer tucked back in place and clean to boot. Had he really had a cup or had he imagined making the tea and drinking it? Remembering that he should shut off the desk lamp he turned back. Apparently he had already shut the lamp off without realizing it. Or maybe it had an automatic sensor that could detect when it was no longer needed. Whatever the case, Delbert departed _The Witch of Mirzam_ very weary and not a little confused.

* * *

><p>"Yes, Captain Silver?" Amelia asked opening the door of her cabin. Fidda had knocked upon it rather loudly with a demand to see the commodore.<p>

"Ye have got to git that man off my ship!" Fidda snarled as soon as the door was open wide enough for them to see each other.

"What man? Captain Sparrow?" Amelia knew that Jack had shown a good deal of interest in this young pirate but she also knew that the interest had been mutual. Could Jack have worn out his welcome?

"Captain Sparrow?" Fidda asked as if that were the most ridiculous thing she had heard all day. "No. Jack's gone into port to see about recruiting more men. I'm talking about that Mr. Weyt you were so keen on."

"Mr. Weyt?" It was Amelia's turn to ask in a tone implying incredulity. "What can Mr. Weyt have possibly done to you or your ship?"

"He's in the power room!" Fidda huffed. "He's been asking questions enough to drive me mad! 'How did you get this in here?' 'What are you doing using one of those for that?' He keeps going on and on. He wants to tear down the whole system and rebuild it. Commodore, please get him off my ship before he does something to it. Please?"

Amelia was led down the companionway to the Morsa's power room where Mr. Weyt was indeed asking questions and insisting that changes be made to the power flow and the conduits.

"If you leave those crystals in that arrangement you'll blow out half your lines when you fire your first volley. They have got to come out. They aren't even the right size for this line! Why are you using one of these seals? Do you know how outdated they are? With this drive setup you're likely to knock a hole in your hull."

"Mr. Weyt?" Amelia asked coming into the compartment. She had to say it twice more before the old Wright realized someone was speaking to him. The Morsa's wright had been backed into a corner and was clearly feeling brow beaten. He looked gratefully to Amelia once she had succeeded in diverting Mr. Weyt's attention. "What are you doing?"

"Um..." Mr. Weyt said coming out of his fugue of ranting. "Oh! Commodore, I was just going over the condition of the drive here. She's in a terrible state. Held together mostly with little bits of wire and good intentions. And the wire is doubtful."

"It is not!" snapped Fidda. "Da built it with his own hands! It runs just fine. We haven't had a scrap of trouble out of it. Even when we were in that battle this drive ran perfectly. Unlike some drives I could mention."

This last was a clear reference to the fact that the _Smollette's_ drive had been knocked off line in spite of all the preparation it had been the subject of. Mr. Weyt had done wonders with it. He had triple reinforced the containment chamber and had installed a multi-layered backup system for the artificial gravity control. The whole ship had been modified and enhanced to a point where she could comfortably take on the firepower of a frigate and have good expectations of coming out the victor. Unfortunately, the _Smollette_ had gone up against a dozen ships before she finally had to face off against an eighty gun Mhinm ship of the line. For an instant Mr. Weyt was speechless at the insult.

"Now see here, young miss," he began.

"Mr. Weyt!" Amelia snapped. "You are speaking to Captain Silver. Not a young miss. I will not have this. Apologize immediately."

"I... I am sorry, Captain Silver," Mr. Weyt said chastened.

"Very well, Mr. Weyt. You may go." Amelia turned to the other wright in the corner. "You too. Return to your duties."

Both spacers left with quick knucklings of their brows. Fidda was gloating over her slight victory but quickly had cause to regret it.

"Captain Silver." Amelia's growl caused the young woman to look up owlishly. Amelia towered more than a head taller than Fidda and in the dim light of the work space her predatory green eyes seemed luminous and feral. "Your reference to that situation was uncalled for. Rousing me from my cabin was also uncalled for. This could have been dealt with by calling Mr. Closton. He is the bosun of my ship and responsible for discipline of this sort. I assure you, he is more than capable of rounding up an errant shipwright."

"Yes, Ma'am," Fidda said humbly. She had been tempted to snap back. A rare twinge of good sense had made her reconsider. No one except her father had ever spoken to her in this way. It was clear that Amelia not only believed she had the right to do so but that she would exercise her authority with force if the need arose.

"Remember in the future that you are an officer under my command." Amelia turned to look at the patchwork monster of a drive that sat lowering in the dim space. "I want this ship cleaned up. Scrub the bulkheads, the ceilings, the decks, everything. By the time we get to the next stage of our journey it needs to be within fleet regulations. Have your wright go over every inch of the systems. Run your diagnostics protocols. See to it that this drive is as perfect as you can make it. We don't have time to refurbish it now. Perhaps later. Remember, Captain, that you sought my help. I know it will not be an easy thing for you to serve under my command but I will not have you running around like a loose cannon on a deck. I expect you to lead your crew and to follow my orders. Understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Fidda said in a small but firm voice.

"I will instruct Mr. Weyt to stay away from your ship unless invited. Good evening, Captain."

"Good evening, Commodore."

Fidda watched Amelia climb the ladder to the deck above. She wasn't sure how she felt at the moment. She had wanted Amelia's help but this was not at all what she had expected. Still, if it meant that she now had a chance to rescue her father from wherever it was he was being kept then any amount of discipline would be worth it. She made her way up to the berth tier where her hammock was hung. She was the captain of this ship right now and yet her hammock was here where the rest of the crew slept. She looked aft where the door of her father's cabin stood shut. She blinked one tear away then lifted her hand and took her hammock from its hooks. She gathered up her chest and carried both to the cabin door. Briefly she paused as though reconsidering but she knew it was the right decision. Fidda opened the door and took command of the ship in earnest.

* * *

><p>"Yes, lad, that's right! I'm looking to fill a few key spots in me crew with likely men." Jack sat behind a table with Mr. Grugh at his side. He knew that Osier, the tall, dark and frightening spacer, was hovering in the corner of the tavern, but there was nothing to be done about that. Yet. The man he was speaking to was odder than usual when it came to these creatures of the space ports. He was as broad as the tabletop and roughly as thin, too. He reminded Jack of a door with webbed arms and a little oblong head mounting a group of bead-like eyes. Whatever he was, it seemed as though he were genuinely interested in getting off of Mhoth and starting a new career.<p>

"It's just that I want to do more for the war effort than just sit around waiting to load cargo, sir," the door-man-thing said.

"Aboard the_ Witch_ you'll do more for the war effort by far, lad," Jack assured him. "Just ask Mr. Grugh here. He resigned his post at the graving docks just so he could sign aboard with me. And he was a quartermaster!"

"I've been promoted, sonny," Grugh interjected with a well timed stage whisper. "Now I'm Chief Wright aboard a fighting ship. We privateers earn more in a week than a Fleet spacer can. And when we takes a prize, sonny, we get a larger share than the fleet hands out. I know. I was in the fleet in the last war."

"Just sign on this line here, lad, and you'll be on your way to being a hero of the Empire, just like me." Jack held up his medal to let the door-man-thing have a look. The multiple eyes flickered and a whistle issued from some unseen orifice. The man took up the pen and signed on the line.

"Right, lad," Grugh said taking the pen from the man's hand. "Get yourself on out the door and see those fellows in the blue jackets with the chevrons on their shoulders. They'll help line you out. We sail in the morning."

"What sort of ship have you got, Captain?" asked yet another of the laborers who had stopped into the tavern after a long day of standing around collecting his pay. He was tall with a satchel slung across his furry chest. Long hair hung down from the top of his head but his entire body seemed to be covered in a stuff so it was difficult to be sure.

"She's a special ship, my good fellow." Jack beamed his most ingratiating smile up at the hairy creature. "Have you not heard of _The Witch of Mirzam_?"

Silence fell in the room. All eyes turned toward Jack's table. Everyone had heard of the haunted ship soon after they arrived at the space port. Jack sensed he had just made a mistake.

"We've heard of her, sir," an unfriendly voice said from somewhere to Jack's left.

"Then you know what's in store for the pirates once we cross the frontier, eh?" Jack said trying to put the best face on things he could.

"We know what's in store for any that sails 'pon 'er." This voice had come from Jack's right.

"Aye," said Grugh. "I warned the capt'n here that she was a strange ship."

Jack turned baleful eyes on him. What was Grugh doing?

"I told him she were haunted. I warned him! I even gave him a chance to turn back but he wouldn't have any of that." Grugh rose from his chair to look into the faces around them. "He tells me he's come fer the_ Witch_ and he won't take no fer answer. So we sails 'cross those miles of derelict hulks spread as far as the eye could see and all the time the feelin' of dread is creepin' up me spine. 'Turn back, Cap'in?', I asks. 'No!', says he. 'I'll have me a look at this ship what's scared so many men.' So I sails on and we gets there. Well, boys, she's as black as ever she was. Sittin' there 'mong all these poorly wrecks. She's just rockin' gentle like at her cables. Gentle in a stiff breeze, mind! She looks like she just come from the yards what built her. Unnatural, it was! I tells ye, lads, I was scared! But not Cap'in Sparrow. We ties off and afore the boat's even settled proper he climbs up amidships and is on deck all alone. Gives one look 'round and sticks his hand out to pull me aboard. Now, I'll tell ye fair. I've been on that ship many a time to 'spect her, but I ain't never felt the way I did just then. Capt'n Sparrow here glared 'round the decks once. A hard glare, boys. And I felt sure somethin' would happen. But nothin' did. It stayed quiet and calm. It was like the wind slacked off, even. Bold as ye please the Capt'n strides down through the hatch and right back to the old capt'n's cabin like he knew right where it would be. Like the cabin was waitin' all this time fer him. We looked around a bit and he says to me, 'See about warmin' up the drive. She ain't happy here.' You can imagine what sorts of things was goin' through me mind just then, but what could I do? I went and warmed up that old drive. I thought we might have to tow her but it was like she wanted to go. She wanted to get back up here where she can sail and I think she knew that we were goin' to take her. That drive cycled pretty as ye please with naught but the t'galants spread. Why, I tell ye, she was glad for our company! She sailed so pretty and smooth it felt like she knew where to go afore we did. And fast! I've seen none like her in all me days. We've got sixteen guns linin' our deck, lads, and I'll wager that we could fire a port broadside and be turned back to lay on the larboard guns afore the balls from port had struck home. She's just that sweet. Afore Capt'n Sparrow stepped on her decks I wouldn't have wanted to sail _The Witch_ to the breaker's yard. Not me! But now, mates, I don't want to be aboard no other vessel. It's the_ Witch_ fer me or none!"

As Grugh had reeled out his line of blarney Jack had watched the faces of those around them. He had seen expressions of disdain gradually turn to looks of interest. Men who had been stiff with suspicion had relaxed into attentive consideration. A few rose from where they sat among their mates and stood in a cue waiting to sign the book and take on adventure. Before the night was done Jack had gotten thirty-four men. With the twelve Amelia had assigned to him and the the three Cobarde had saddled him with Jack now had enough men to sail and fight the_ Witch_. Twice as many would be better but he could do it with what he had.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter VII**

Eight bells had just been struck and Lieutenant Alamimo was relieved by Mr. Closton. The watches were a little short handed but Amelia had still decided to reduce them all to just four crewmen and an officer in order to let the remainder of the crew sleep. They had all been hard at work the previous night and it was questionable as to when they would be able to rest like this again.

Alamimo decided she was more than ready to retire to the little cabin she shared with Anamaria. It was through shear force of will that she did not slump off to a dark corner as soon as the last bell was rung. Instead, she stepped deliberately down the bridge ladder to the main deck, mindful that she kept herself neat and erect. She was trying to style herself on the manner in which Commodore Amelia performed her duties. The young Pajakian was just turning for the main hatch when she spied an extra hand on deck. He was dressed in the canvas duck trousers the Commodore had requisitioned from the Chief Administrator but his shirt and shoes were civilian make and very fine. She would not even have noticed him save that he was bent over one of the L48s as though he were trying to work out how to fire it.

"What are you doing there?" Alamimo demanded a little sternly. She hadn't meant to come off quite that way but she was tired and a little cranky.

The spacer turned to face her and as soon as he saw her uniform he snapped to. His eyes flicked over her quickly but when they got to her face they stopped. He lost any expression at all except that his pupils dilated and he turned a little more green across his forehead. His mouth slackened a little, too, but could that really be called an expression?

"Well?" Alamimo demanded again. It was clear that she had caught him off guard but why was he looking at her that way?

"Um..." said the young man. He saw her eyes narrow on him and found his voice. "I was just looking at the gun, Miss."

"Miss?" Alamimo bristled. "I am a lieutenant, Mister! You are a spacer third class and may address me as either Ma'am or Lieutenant. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Lieutenant!"

"Now tell me why you were looking over this gun instead of sleeping." Alamimo was feeling a little cross with this neophyte. Miss, indeed!

"I... I've never seen one before, Ma'am. Not up close like this," said the spacer.

"Why are you not on the berth deck sleeping with your mates?" she demanded, still crossly.

"My mates, Ma'am?" He was clearly bewildered. Then, with sudden understanding, said, "Oh! You mean the other spacers. I'm sorry. I thought you meant... Um... Well, you see, Lieutenant, Heliwr don't sleep. Sometimes we have to rest if we've been pushing ourselves but mostly we don't even need to do that. At least not until we get particularly old."

"I see," Alamimo relaxed a bit. Amelia had mentioned this young man to her. She had said that he was a complete novice and would bear watching. As usual, the Commodore was right. "Fortunately for you there is no power to the guns at the moment. That lever you were leaning on is the trigger. You could have killed somebody."

"Oh!" the Heliwr said, his eyes going wide. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I didn't know."

"There will be instruction on the weapons before we go into action," Alamimo said. "It will serve you well to pay attention. I assume you have no skills with sails and rigging so you will very likely be posted to one of these weapons as your battle station. Learn your tasks well. The ship depends on the skill of every one of the crew. I suggest you study your knots until your watch comes on duty again."

"Yes, Ma'am," Intepere said and remembered just in time to knuckle his brow before the lieutenant strode away. He was still watching her when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Turning he found Mr. Closton eyeing him narrowly.

"She's an officer, lad," Closton said.

"Yes, sir. I know," Intepre said a little confused about why the bosun should feel it necessary to point this out.

"Ah, lad," Closton chuckled softly. "She's out of your class. At least for the moment. Until the war is done or you quit this crew, you're just a spacer."

"Eh?" Intepere was truly confused now.

Closton blinked at the young man. Could he really be that thick? Yes. Closton shook his head then turned to the L48 Intepere had been examining. He reached under the breach and flipped a small switch. Instantly a hologram appeared above the gun.

"You want to learn about one of these, sonny?" Closton said stepping aside so that the young Heliwr could get a look at the globe of light. "Study this here manual. It has all the basics. You'll learn the real lesson once we start warming them up. This will at least get you started. Have any questions, come see me when I'm not busy."

"Aye, sir!" Intepere said with gratitude. "I will, sir. And thank you."

In spite of her weary condition and the long hours she had just put in, Alamimo was finding it difficult to get to sleep. She tossed and turned a few times in her bunk, finally settling on her most natural position with her front legs folded under her and her torso and head laying flat down across her mattress. She lay like that for some time before she rolled onto her back once more. She sighed loudly and crossed her arms behind her head and sighed again.

"What's wrong, Alamimo?" Anamaria asked sleepily. The Pajakian's restless movements had wakened her.

"Hmm? Oh! I'm sorry, Ana," Alamimo said coming to herself with a jolt. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's alright," Anamaria said rolling onto an elbow to look across the small cabin at the Fleet officer. "Is everything alright?"

"No. I mean, yes! Everything is fine," Alamimo said almost crossly.

Anamaria narrowed her eyes. "Something is vexing you. What is it?"

"Nothing, really," Alamimo said uncertainly. "It's just that rich-boy politician's son. The one that joined the ship from the _Glorious_."

"What about him?" Anamaria eased back on her bunk hoping that the shadows would hide her smile.

"He called me 'miss'." Alamimo half raised herself from the mattress. "I worked very hard to earn my rank. He joins this crew and calls me 'miss'. What does he think he's doing here, anyway? Doesn't know the first thing about military discipline. Doesn't know anything about a ship's guns. No experience in rigging."

"Which one is he? I don't really remember him," Anamaria said untruthfully. She recalled the tall, slim alien very well. Who could have missed him in such fine clothes as he wore?

"Oh, I'm sure you noticed him," Alamimo grumbled. "Tall, slim, good looking, shades of green all through his complexion."

"Tall, slim, good looking?" Anamaria asked innocently.

"Well, yes." Alamimo dropped heavily back into her pillow. "His good looks won't do him much good out here. This isn't a holiday cruise or a state dinner. This is a fighting ship. We need hands that can lay and splice. We need fighting men. What's he going to do? Flash that pretty smile of his and blink those all-too-perfect eyes? Then get himself run through for the trouble of it? Calling me 'miss' and then staring at me that way! He has a lot to learn. That's all I'm saying."

"He stared at you?" Anamaria goaded.

"Right there on the deck at the change of the watch." Alamimo snorted out a word Anamaria didn't understand.

"On the deck? At the change of the watch?" the Earth girl asked. This was getting interesting.

"Looked at me as though he'd never seen an officer before," Alamimo grumbled again.

"And then he called you 'miss'?"

"No. He did that first." Alamimo rolled onto her side facing away from Anamaria. "'Miss', indeed! I lined him out right quick, I can tell you. Stare at me like that. Who does he think he is? And then he blushed when I told him to call me ma'am or lieutenant. Why's he blushing, I wondered? Probably embarrassed that he got a dressing down from a woman. Miss!"

Anamaria had to stuff the corner of her blanket in her mouth to stifle her laughter. She was grinning from ear to ear and was more than grateful for the darkness of the room. Alamimo had never reacted like this to Jack. Maybe there would be more interesting things going on aboard the _Smollette_ than just another rescue mission. Alamimo fell silent and soon the two young women were both sound asleep. Alamimo slept fitfully while Anamaria had a pleasant little dream that she found difficult to recall but knew that it centered around a certain brown haired young man with haunting eyes.

* * *

><p>Jack woke at the ringing of the fourth bell of the first watch. He reached for the bottle under his pillow and dragging the cork free, he splashed some down his throat before he even bothered to sit up. This bed was comfortable! How utterly wonderful to have such a fine mattress as this. And there was something to be said for clean sheets. Looking down at them now in the faint light from his window he knew they were no longer clean, but he had enjoyed the feeling for at least one night. He swung his legs out from under the covers letting his feet touch the floor. A nice little mat lay just so. Jack smiled. What a ship this was. Then he reached for his boots where he had dropped them the night before. He reached some more. And then even more. Suddenly, he found himself sprawled upon the floor in a less than dignified manner. He blinked. Where had his boots gone? Groping through the dimness of the room he found the lamp at the head of the bed and fumbled with the little lever that would cause it to glow. With the warm light pervading the room Jack looked about. His boots were nowhere to be seen. His hat wasn't where he had left it either. Nor was his coat, sword belt or even his waistcoat. The bleariness that had afflicted his just-roused mind now faded away to be replaced by irritation and a small bit of alarm. Had someone come into his cabin while he had slept?<p>

"Bugger!" Jack growled as he crossed the floor to his cabin's door. "Locked?"

He turned the key back and forth a few times to be certain but the door had, indeed, been locked. What was going on here? Still in his bare feet Jack stepped lightly to the cupboard built into the bulkhead. Opening the door he discovered his things. Or at least he discovered everything except his boots. His hat had been tucked into the narrow shelf at the top of the cupboard while his waistcoat, frock coat and sword belt were all hung on pegs. He did not remember doing this. It would be very unlike him to be so careful of his clothes. While Jack valued his appearance, he felt that a certain amount of scruffiness was important in a scoundrel. A pirate had to balance the scale very carefully when it came to looking the part. Too much care and you weren't believable. Too little and people didn't take you seriously. A fine line that Jack prided himself on maintaining well.

"If I were a pair of boots," Jack mumbled to himself. "Where would I be?"

After a few minutes of rummaging around in this drawer and that cubbyhole Jack finally found his boots hanging upside down in the small cabinet beneath the little magic tea service. At least that was what he called it. Doppler had called it an auto... alto... ulterior? No. Automatic brewer! That was it. Pleased at having remembered the real name of the thing Jack found himself halfway across the little cabin to his bed before he thought to wonder how his boots had ended up in that small space and why? It didn't seem the right place for boots. Not the right place at all. They should have been kicked to the middle of the floor with clothes piled upon them so that he could find them when he went to get dressed. Odd. Very, very odd.

Once properly accoutered Jack stepped out of his cabin to have a word with Mr. Grugh. He found the Chief Wright in the tool locker where he had spent much of the previous day.

"Mr. Grugh," Jack said entering the small space. "Has anyone been into my cabin aside from meself?"

Grugh shook his curly horned head. "Not to my knowing, sir."

"Would anyone besides me have a key?" Jack asked more or less casually.

"Yourin be the only key, Capt'n. None but ye would be needin' of one." Grugh squinted at Jack. "Is somat the matter, sir?"

Jack described the state of his things when he had attempted to clothe himself.

"Ah! Now that is peculiar, sir." Grugh rubbed his hands together as though warming them up before doing some delicate task. "See, Capt'n, last evenin' me and a lad was workin' in here on gettin' some of the new crystals cut and shaped to fit this here Procyon cable work. Regulation Fleet crystals are all the wrong size, see? So we got all of our measurin' done and had all of our notes taken. Then we laid out what tools we'd be a needin' for the work today. Well, when I come in this mornin' I found all put away neat as neat. I couldn't find the crystals anywhere. Since the war began there's been quite the black market for crystals, as ye might imagine. Before I got anyone in trouble, though, I decided to have a look 'round. Ye'll never guess where I found them, sir."

Jack waited expectantly for a moment then realized that Grugh was actually waiting for him to make a guess. Jack frowned and made a motion with his hand.

"Oh! Sorry, sir," Grugh said shamefacedly. "They was all in the waste hopper over there. Stacked up neat and proper. Not one was a missing. Just put in there like they was nowhere else for them."

"Like there was nowhere else for them?" Jack mused. He reckoned that in his cabin there had been nowhere to put his boots except for the little cabinet. That made some sense but how had the boots gotten there? And how had anything else gotten to where it had been?

"Mr. Grugh," Jack said in a low voice. "Keep this bit of news just between you and me for the moment, eh? Don't want to spook the lads with it until we're clear out of port with nowhere for them to go. Savvy?"

"Aye, sir," said Grugh. "If ye think it's best."

* * *

><p>Amelia was going over her star charts working out the best route to take and the best course of action as well. She was worried about what she had seen here at Mhoth. At least it partly explained why there were so few ships on the convoy routes. She wondered what the rest of the war effort looked like. She wondered, too, about the lack of officers and men. What had become of all those spacers and ships? Clearly this was part of the reason that Baron Fforio had given her this commission. Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her cabin door.<p>

"Ah! Lieutenant Lh'aer'ri, come in," Amelia said as she opened the door to admit the young officer. Lh'aer'ri stumped in on his metal leg taking off his hat as he did so. "I wanted to speak with you about something."

"Aye, Ma'am?" Lh'aer'ri asked wondering if he had done something wrong.

"With Captain Sparrow's new command he has need of an able officer," Amelia began, handing a glass of her claret to Lh'aer'ri. "He has Mr. Grugh, but frankly I don't yet know enough about that man to trust a ship to his guidance and I don't know how up to date he is with our signals and codes. I don't want Captain Sparrow floundering about in the middle of a fight wondering what I want him to do."

"So ye want me to be the first officer of the _Witch_, Commodore?" Lh'aer'ri asked evenly.

"Just so," Amelia said going to her chart table. "I think it is best if our vessels have experienced military personnel on board. It will help counter balance the number of untrained civilians. I hate to waste her but I believe I shall be assigning Lieutenant Alamimo and a few more of the crew to the _Morsa_. Alamimo isn't an experienced combat officer but she is well versed in military doctrine and knows the signals back to front. Frighteningly efficient, she is. Tougher than she looks, too."

"Aye, Ma'am, she is," Lh'aer'ri agreed. "May I make an observation, Commodore?"

"Please do."

"Would it not be wiser to place Lieutenant Alamimo aboard the _Witch_?" he asked. "She and Captain Sparrow seemed to have worked well together during our time on Azha and he does have more spacers with at least some military background. Also, the charts for the _Witch_ are all in Procyon. Lieutenant Alamimo might be of greater value there than I will be."

"Those are good observations, Lieutenant," Amelia told him approvingly. "However, I noted on more than one occasion that Alamimo... Shall we say, she was distracted by the Captain? I think it were best not to place that temptation on either of them. I find it unlikely that they would act inappropriately but I would not wish for them to be made uncomfortable. As for the charts, my husband has already translated more than half of the calculations and should complete the remainder by the time we reach Situla. He'll be able to input the translation algorithms well before we need to worry about the _Witch_ getting lost."

"I understand, Commodore," Lh'aer'ri said with a firm nod of his head.

"How do you feel about serving under a pirate?" Amelia asked.

"He's no pirate out here, Ma'am," Lh'aer'ri said staunchly. "He's just a good man."

The Commodore raised an eyebrow and smiled a little before she said, "I do hope so. I believe he is, at any rate. Here's to your promotion, Lieutenant!"

They both raised their glasses and drank the toast. Lh'aer'ri thanked Amelia and strode out feeling ever the slightest bit more pleased with himself and somewhat anxious about his new posting. The anxious feeling increased when he saw Captain Sparrow's new flag.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter VIII**

Jack watched with a smile on his face as his colors were run up the mast. In honor of Commodore Amelia, it was made of red silk, and in recognition of the fact that he was currently in service to the Galactic Empire, it flew below the white ensign. Upon the red silk was blazoned a white skull in profile with crossed bones beneath. To the side and above the mid-line of the silk was a winged creature of some sort outlined in black so that the red of the silk showed through. It was nearly identical to the flag he had flown on the _Pearl_ save that this one was red and the one for the _Pearl_ had been black.

Mr. Grugh stood nearby stuffing his pipe with something that looked like dragonfly wings, His eyes were narrowed at the flag as it went up and fluttered in the solar wind.

"Mr. Grugh," Jack said stepping over to him still smiling. "What do you think?"

"Is it proper, sir?" Grugh asked striking a flame from a small cylinder and lighting his pipe.

"Proper? Of course it's proper." Jack looked up at the flag and back to Mr. Grugh. He was affecting a puzzled expression, though, he knew quite well what the Chief Wright meant. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Looks a might piratey, don't it?" Grugh replied with a puff of green smoke.

"Piratey?" Jack increased his expression of puzzlement. "You mean the skull and the crossed bones? That's just a sign of our mortality. Our lives for the Empire and all that."

Grugh eyed his captain for a long beat, then spat over the rail and said before walking off smiling, "Beg pardon, Capt'n, but rohmuta wash."

* * *

><p>Lieutenant Lh'aer'ri reported aboard the <em>Witch<em> soon after her flag had been raised. Though he was not as polished as many officers in the Fleet he was a little surprised at the condition of the men Captain Sparrow had recruited. The dozen from the Glorious were in good order but the remainder seemed to have no notion of military discipline.

"Captain," Lh'aer'ri said after handing his papers to Sparrow in the chart room. "Permission to speak freely?"

Jack stuffed the papers into a drawer before raising his brows as a sign that Lh'aer'ri could speak his piece.

"Are ye sure ye want all of these men loafing about, sir?" Lh'aer'ri shifted uncomfortably. It was not usual for him to speak this way to an officer.

"Loafing about?" Jack asked.

"Aye, sir," Lh'aer'ri went on haltingly. "It's just that most of them don't seem to know even how to dress themselves."

"Ah..." Jack replied noncommittally. "You think they should be disciplined, I take it."

"I do, sir."

"You are, without doubt, quite correct, Lieutenant," Jack said with the flicker of a smile. "We simply need to pick the opportune moment to begin. At this moment, we are in a port that these men know well. If we break out the lash, they'll scamper at the first chance they get, won't they? I would. So, when do we do it, eh?"

Lh'aer'ri pondered that a moment before answering slowly, "When we set sail, sir?"

"When we set sail, Larry." Jack nodded. "Once we're out of port they're stuck with us and we with them. We'll have to find out what they can do, of course, but we'll train them up proper in no time. Just so we don't push them too far, too fast. Savvy?"

With a dawning light, it all made sense. Lh'aer'ri was accustomed to military crews that had been put through some training before they joined a ship. Captain Sparrow, on the other hand, knew well how to make use of untrained men. A knock came at the door just then and a muffled voice asked permission to enter.

"You'll find your cabin across the companionway," Jack said as man to man. "Not the biggest one I've ever seen but it's the best we have, next to mine. Welcome aboard, Lieutenant. I shall entrust the training and discipline of the crew to your capable hands... er... tentacles... as soon as we're under way."

As Lh'aer'ri opened the door three spacers stepped aside. They were the three that Jack had recruited at the Capitol. When the door closed Cobarde's goons were inside the small room with Jack. Jack felt very boxed in but he wasn't going to let them see him sweat. He knew that they couldn't touch him without being put to death. That might not stop them or they might not know it but they were a little too relaxed for Jack to feel in real danger. He would need to be careful, none the less.

"So, what is it that I could do for you fine lads this day?" Jack asked finding the best chair and leaning back in it as though everything were going to plan.

"Sparrow, what are you doing?" demanded Fonyn. Jack had decided that the purple patch on his head must be hair. No one wore a hat that religiously.

"That's Captain Sparrow," Jack said levelly.

The three exchanged looks, or at least the two shorter ones did. Osier, with his black mantel, never seemed to notice the other two except by inadvertence.

Fonyn cleared his throat and said again, "Captain Sparrow, what are you doing?"

"What are you doing?" Jack retorted.

"No! What are you doing?" Fonyn insisted. "You were supposed to stop Amelia from getting her ship. You were supposed to prevent her from going to the Expanse. You were supposed to make sure this venture failed!"

"Firstly: I couldn't prevent Commodore Amelia from getting her ship because she already had it. Secondly: I couldn't prevent Commodore Amelia from going to the Expanse without I gave myself away. Lord Cobarde would not have been pleased about that. Thirdly: This venture hasn't succeeded yet, has it? Have you seen the crew I recruited? Have you seen my flag? And now, answer my question, mate. What are you doing?"

"We're askin' the questions here, Cap'n," growled Bugio flexing his overly long arms threateningly.

"Wrong," Jack snarled softly leaning forward. There was real heat in his kohled eyes. Of the four, he was the only one who was obviously armed, though his hands never strayed near the weapons. "You are standing in a private compartment with the door closed asking your captain questions loud enough that someone on the other side of that door might hear. You are currently endangering this mission by all three of you being here at once. Or did it not occur to any of you that Amelia is suspicious of you three already? Why else would she have put you all on my ship, eh? It would serve all of us better if in the future you were to remember that Lord Cobarde placed you under my orders to assist me."

"Captain Sparrow," Osier spoke for the first time that Jack could recall. His voice was soft and sinuous. It crept into your ear like a serpent through grass. "We will not all come again. We will watch and wait - for the moment. Do not disappoint us. It would be unwise."

Jack never broke eye contact with him until Osier turned and opened the door to leave.

* * *

><p>"I'm not sure you were right, Closton," Amelia said as they watched Lieutenant Alamimo carry her dunnage down the gang plank followed by twelve spacers in the new blue and white uniforms. Among these spacers was Intepere Kaholo.<p>

"I've been wrong before, Commodore," Closton admitted. "But I would stake my share in the next prize that that boy will protect her better than a squad of marines."

"You deduced that from just one look between them?" Amelia said partly amused.

"You should have seen that look, Ma'am." Closton's crest rose in his version of a smile.

Alamimo reported aboard the Morsa with her draft of spacers. She was somewhat dreading this experience but the commodore had assigned her and so it would be. She handed her papers over to Fidda who took them with only slight reluctance. Fidda didn't like the idea of Fleet types on her ship and she didn't like this one particularly. She had nothing against her but Fidda felt that Alamimo would be a stick in the mud about a lot of things.

For her part, Alamimo was surprised to discover that the Morsa had been cleaned recently. The decks were as neat as you could ask with all of the usual cordage in its proper place and the new cannon gleaming with recent polish. There were several spacers in the rigging replacing ties and adjusting conduit.

"Welcome aboard, Lieutenant," Fidda said coolly as Alamimo presented the new draft of spacers.

"Thank you, Captain Silver," Alamimo half turned to glance over her charges. "With Commodore Amelia's compliments I present you this draft of men to supplement your crew until we can recruit up to strength."

"When we stop in at Situla we should be able to resolve that situation," Fidda said stiffly. The weight of her position had been pressing down on her since the previous night. She'd never had to act on her own authority before. Her father had always been there to back her up. Now, though, she was on her own and she didn't like it. She'd be damned before she would let Alamimo know the truth, though. "These look in order, Lieutenant. Take the men to Bosun Volus for their duty assignments and then take over the first watch. We'll be sailing with the noon rise. You'll have a couple of hours to familiarize yourself with the ship. I will be in my cabin if anything comes up. Call me five minutes before noon."

Alamimo did as ordered. Because there had been no formal introduction and no 'reading her into the book' ceremony, she introduced herself to the crew as she went about. She examined everything in sight. The more she saw of the ship, the more it became clear to her that the Morsa had been created from a hodge-podge of parts. The body of the ship was old. It had been knocked about quite a lot. The rigging was of three different makes and there was much aboard the vessel that was non-standard. Some of the components were obviously fabricated by the crew, not an uncommon practice among less well-to-do civilian vessels. All in all, the Morsa was serviceable but how they were to maintain her was anybody's guess.

During this time of introduction and inspection Alamimo more than once noticed the young Heliwr spacer staring at her. When she would look up or turn her head, he would quickly look away and return to whatever it was that the bosun had assigned him to do. She bristled at this attention but said nothing. For the moment she would not let on. Why she kept looking at him she did not know. Perhaps it was because she could feel his eyes upon her? She shrugged.

* * *

><p>Something wasn't right. Brraadtt felt it more than he knew it. Part of him wished he had been assigned to serve aboard <em>The Witch of Mirzam<em>. It wasn't because he was particularly attracted to that ship or that he did not wish to serve on the _Smollette_. He just did not trust those three spacers. He was standing on the quarterdeck of _Smollette_ with Broad Foot at his side. They were very comfortable with each other and seemed always to be found one by the other. When the three spacers had crossed the _Witch's_ deck and gone below, Brraadtt had seen them and now he was watching to see if they would emerge together. They did. Drawing off a few paces from the hatch they stopped and spoke among themselves. Brraadtt couldn't hear what they said but Broad Foot was also staring at them intently. He made a displeased chitter and hissed softly.

"What do they say?" Brraadtt asked the little Raposa in his own tongue. Brraadtt had learned much of it over the past few weeks. He had become quite proficient with the whistles and clicks that sounded so much like a mixture of bird songs and insect calls. It was a much easier language for him to speak. So much like his native tongue, in fact, that he was almost eloquent in it.

"They say something about Knot Hair," Broad Foot replied. Knot Hair was his name for Captain Sparrow. He had named all of the members of the group that had escaped from Azha, Broad Foot's home world. Brraadtt's personal favorite was Star Finger. Broad Foot called Dr. Doppler that because Delbert had spent many watches pointing out the various navigational points to the curious Raposa.

"What is it that they say?" Brraadtt asked.

"Don't understand it all," said Broad Foot. "They speak too fast. Do not use his proper name. They say they watch him. Say they watch Spirit Eyes, too."

"Commodore Amelia?" Brraadtt asked shocked. He hadn't realized that he had changed languages until Broad Foot looked up questioningly. Brraadtt debated what to do. Once they were on course the three spacers would be trapped aboard the _Witch_ until the flotilla made port. Unless they stole one of the longboats. Even then they would be easy to scoop up. Sneaking away from one ship was not easy. Sneaking away from three would be nearly impossible. He would tell the Commodore everything as soon as he could get her away from the rest of the men. This was far too important to let lay.

* * *

><p>At five minutes before noon Alamimo sent one of the spacers to call Captain Silver to the quarterdeck. The signal went up from the <em>Smollette<em> right on the stroke of the hour and all three ships cast off their lines. With the sun gleaming off of their sails they eased away from the docks leaving Mhoth and the shipyards behind them. They made way to Situla. Three ships filled to overflowing with hope and doubt. Would they find Silver? Would he be alive if they did? Would they live to tell the tale? Only time would bear it out.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter IX**

They were ten days out of Mhoth before they spotted another ship. It was a lugger under full sail making way towards the main trade route in this sector. She was cleaving as close to the stars as a ship would dare and the strain was showing in her rigging. This sort of high speed run was murderous on drives. Only urgent need would cause a captain to risk it with such a small vessel. What was it doing out here anyway? Luggers were normally only used for interplanetary missions like asteroid harvesting or particle collection. From even so great a distance Amelia could see that it had been damaged. Scorched paint and bare metal showed at the stern. A ship so small should not have been this far out on its own.

"Mr. Closton," Amelia called down to the main deck. "Signal that lugger to heave to and await us. Then signal the other ships to follow our course."

Mr. Brraadtt altered the heading and without the need to reset sails the _Smollette_ cruised placidly through the ether towards the lugger. There was some activity on the smaller vessel's deck as they read the flags. There seemed to be some debate at first as the ship did not reduce speed nor did it slacken sail. Amelia, peering intently through her glass, could see that the crew was in some confusion and that a man she took to be the captain was exhorting them to obey his orders. Finally they went up the rigging and took in the sail. The drive plume instantly dimmed and the ship made only enough thrust to maintain her course.

"What ship are you and where are you out of?" Amelia demanded as soon as the _Smollette _had come alongside her. They were standing out a ship's length so as not to tangle spars.

"We're the _Joon_ out of Situla bound for Aspern with a message from Captain Piet of the _IGS Crescent_," replied the captain of the lugger. "I am Captain Rhowch. Who are you?"

"_Smollette_. I am Commodore Amelia under Imperial commission as Commodore of Privateers." Amelia frowned. She could not take this man's word that he was who he said he was. She did not wish to offend him nor did she wish to delay him but it was her duty to be certain that this was not a scout for a force of pirates from the Expanse. "Captain, I'm afraid that I must send a party aboard your vessel to inspect it. Will you please come aboard _Smollette_ with your log and papers? I will delay your errand for as short a time as possible."

Mr. Brraadtt took five men and one of the longboats over to the _Joon_. Captain Rhowch was brought back by the longboat while Brraadtt and his men inspected the lugger.

"What brings you out this far alone, Captain?" Amelia asked Rhowch, he had been escorted to her cabin. She was inspecting his papers and his log.

"As I said, Commodore," Rhowch replied. "We are taking a message to Aspern for Captain Piet."

"Forgive me, Captain, but it is rather irregular for a civilian vessel to be dispatched on such a mission," Amelia said probing the man with her eyes.

"There weren't any Fleet vessels available for the job, Ma'am." Rhowch shifted uneasily under her gaze. "The Fleet base at Situla was attacked three days ago."

"Attacked?" Amelia demanded.

"Pirates from the Expanse," Rhowch said. "They swooped in out of nowhere. We were working the asteroid belt around Stass. Our hold was nearly full and we had just begun hauling in the last nets of the day when they shot away our rudder. We didn't even see them until they fired on us. Me and the lads thought our number was up, but they cruised right on by without so much as slowing down. At least twenty ships. They went straight for the base as far as we could see. There was quite the battle."

"What's the condition of the base?" Amelia asked concerned. Situal was the first line of defense for this sector and it was the largest Fleet base for twenty parsecs around. It had a fair sized graving yard and heavy anti-ship planetary defense batteries. She had hoped to operate out of Situla for the first part of her mission. If things had gone badly she would need to adjust her plans.

"The condition? I don't know, Commodore." Rhowch frowned. "We were on our way back after we'd repaired our rudder. The pirates gave us a wide berth as they retreated. I can tell you that they didn't get away scott free. More than half of them were damaged and one was under tow. The Crescent came along about an hour later. That's when Captain Piet ordered me about and gave me this message for Aspern."

"The Crescent is a frigate, Captain," Amelia observed. "Why was one frigate pursuing the pirates?"

"I don't know, Ma'am," Rhowch answered honestly with a shrug. "Maybe that was all that was left?"

"What was the condition of the Crescent?" asked Amelia.

"Damaged. There were spacers in her rigging installing a new spar. Wrights were all over her deck. I'd say she had been lucky."

"Did Captain Piet tell you who to deliver the message to, Captain?"

"He only said that it needed to go to the commander of the Fleet base at Aspern." Captain Rhowch fished in his pocket and came out with the folded message. A red seal of wax had been pressed on it. Amelia took the folded paper and examined the seal. It was Piet's signet, alright. The condition of the paper indicated that the message had been hurriedly despatched. Amelia handed the paper back to Rhowch.

"How are your provisions, Captain?" she asked as he tucked the message back in his pocket.

"We are a little low on fresh water," Rhowch replied accepting his log book and other documents from her. "We have enough food to get to Aspern and I suppose that they will resupply us before we return to Situla."

Amelia called Closton in and instructed him to have the quartermaster draw stores enough to supply the Joon with water and food for the remainder of their voyage. Captain Rhowch was more than grateful and promised he would repay her if ever he got the chance. Within minutes of the stores being transfered the Joon set full sail and resumed her course. Amelia wrote out a brief message to be passed to the other two ships and then ordered Mr. Brraadtt to return to there base course at flank speed.

* * *

><p>It had been two days since they had encountered the <em>Joon<em> and Amelia had set a pace that the spacers found hard to maintain. She had crowded on as much sail as the _Smollette_ could hold. The _Morsa_ had a great deal of difficulty maintaining her place a cable length behind _Smollette,_ but Fidda had finessed the ship into better order than it had ever been in. Her old crew thought this strange and at first resented it but the new members of her crew, long used to sailing aboard the _Glorious_ and other merchant ships, took to it easily enough. Even so, the wrights aboard were run ragged trying to keep up with all of the suddenly needed repairs. If it had not been for Alamimo's organizational skills it was doubtful whether they could have kept up at all. At the same time _The Witch of Mirzam_ coursed along like a greyhound out of the slip. She was brining up the rear but with her Procyon drive, her spread of sail and her no nonsense lines she would have had no difficulty in overtaking the _Smollette_ had Jack chosen to do so. For having lain in the breakers yard for twelve years she was remarkably fleet and agile. It was stunning the way she sailed closer to the solar wind than what any captain had a right to ask. Of the three captains Jack was the only one truly enjoying this voyage. Lieutenant Lh'aer'ri seemed to be enjoying himself as well. He had begun training the inexperienced spacers almost the minute they had left Mhoth and with his clear instructions and very fair handed discipline the men had come a long way in less than two weeks. They had even begun to like the limping and scarred lieutenant. Their easy cruise could not last, though.

They saw the fires first. Just flickers of light to Jack's eyes, like moonlight on the waves. The great Fleet base on Situla was burning still.

"Signal from the Commodore, Sir," Lh'aer'ri said striding aft to the quarterdeck.

Jack looked to him with a nod.

"She orders line ahead formation."

"Expecting trouble, no doubt." Jack lifted the powerful glass to his eye and gazed at the city in flames. "Suspect we missed everything. Still, it's wise to be careful in situations like this."

"Orders, sir?" Lh'aer'ri persisted.

"Match bearing and speed with the _Morsa_. Line ahead. All hands to stations, Larry."

Bellowing orders, Lh'aer'ri stumped off for'ard. The crew sprang from their idling in double quick time. Since leaving Mhoth the crew had learned to jump whenever the lieutenant shouted. Mr. Grugh, as acting bosun, was in command of the larboard division. It was something of a contest between he and Lh'aer'ri to see whose division could clear for action faster. This time it was a near run thing but the starboard division was a few seconds quicker. The larboard side knew Mr. Grugh was displeased. They all stared straight ahead. None would meet his eyes.

The small flotilla cruised in with their banners flying. They cleared the orbit of Stass without encountering so much as a patrol launch. There were a few bits of wreckage adrift but nothing to speak of. Had there been a second attack? Had the commodore of the Fleet base ordered a general evacuation of the planet? How thoroughly had the pirates reduced the base? As they drew closer the orbital port facility rounded the horizon of Situla. Lights were on there but no ship sortied to challenge them. The flotilla sailed on ever closer to the planet.

Without warning a cannon shot crossed the bow of _Smollette_. Instantly the crews moved to their battle ready stations. Cannon were primed and men in the fighting tops checked the settings on their muskets. The lookouts all turned in the direction from which the ball had come. Hidden in the shadow of the moon there was a small vessel. It floated there silently. The only clue of its presence was the still glowing muzzle of its bow gun. The flags on _Smollette_ signaled for the flotilla to come about and spread their formation another cable length. They turned in good order to face the aggressor.

"Heave to there!" shouted an amplified voice from the hidden ship. "Identify yourself or be destroyed."

"Commodore Amelia, commanding the privateer _Smollette_," Amelia shouted back through her own megaphone. "Identify yourself or be fired upon!"

Jack heard the anger in Amelia's voice. Whoever it was on the unknown ship had just bitten off a very large piece and it remained to be seen if it was more then he could chew. Anything short of a first rate ship of the line would be hard pressed to fend off all three of these swift little ships. Jack knew the _Smollette _was a right handful when she was well handled and he had seen how well the _Morsa_ could fight if her current crew was up to it. He had no misgivings about how the _Witch_ would fare.

"Ensign Tupps, patrol boat seven of the Situla yards." Came the amplified voice again. The hidden vessel turned out to be nothing more than a tender boat rigged with a very large ship's gun. She was moving slowly out from the shadow of the moon into the full light of the nearby star.

"I'll thank you to report aboard my vessel immediately, Ensign." Amelia was not pleased by the near miss and the complete lack of challenge. Jack calculated that the youngster aboard the boat was about to get an object lesson in things not to do.

* * *

><p>"Ensign Tupps, Commodore," Closton said through the open door of Amelia's cabin before stepping aside and allowing the painfully young officer to enter. Tupps turned out to be a Ressling. This was a rarity as the Resslings had been members of the Empire for less than fifty years. Their race had preferred to keep to their own system and few were known beyond the bounds of the territory they had claimed. This one was very young, indeed. Hardly more than a youth.<p>

"Report, Ensign," Amelia commanded sternly after Closton had closed the door.

"En... Ensign Tupps, Ma'am," he said nervously. "In command of the..."

"I know all that, Ensign. Thank you." Amelia's tone was not friendly and was heavily laced with irritation. "Why did your boat fire on my ship without warning?"

"We thought you were pirates, Ma'am," Tupps replied stiffly. His nervousness was causing his short, slim frame to shake uncontrollably. His lips were clinched tight to prevent them from smacking in distress.

"And you fired without challenge? Why?"

"Orders, Ma'am," Tupps replied simply.

"A tender boat with one cannon is ordered to fire on a flotilla of three ships that clearly out class and out gun it?" Amelia wondered aloud. "To what end? A needless sacrifice of men, it seems to me."

"We're all the base has for the moment, Ma'am."

"Situla can mount no better defense than a single tender boat?" She was incredulous. How much damage had the pirates inflicted?

"No, Ma'am," Tupps put in quickly. "There are twelve boats like mine. We're the farthest out, is all. By way of an early warning for the ones closer in to the base and the station. Most of the gun batteries are back in action as well."

"And what has become of the ships?" Amelia asked more civilly.

"The _Crescent_ sailed right after the attack, Ma'am," said Tupps a little less nervous now that he felt her wrath had abated. "_The Morning Star_ was put back in service a few hours later and sailed after her. _Treent_ and _Witherwind_ were both damaged but they have been sent to the outer rim to patrol in hopes of joining the frigates. _Courageous_ and _Salammar_ are both badly damaged but salvageable. The other ships were all caught in an explosion and are wrecked beyond our ability to repair them at the moment. The pirates hit the armory and the magazine of the shipyard and before they left they smashed the port headquarters and government house. The governor and his family were all killed, as was the admiral."

"Who is in charge now?" Amelia asked with a growing sense of dread.

"Captain Pillorrey, Ma'am."

"I've never heard of him." Amelia knew or was familiar with most of the senior captains even though she had not been an active Fleet officer for more than twelve years. Command lists in peace time did not change with great regularity.

"He is a reserve officer, Ma'am," Tupps told her. "An engineer sent from Hourn to oversee the refit of the shipyard and the planetary defense batteries. He is senior to the surviving captains by many years, Ma'am."

"I see," Amelia said with a sour look. An engineer in charge of military operations? This would not do. "I've kept you from your post long enough, Ensign. Follow your orders but do not go needlessly into a fight. The Empire needs good officers and men at the moment. It would be a shame to deprive our Fleet of such, especially at this time. Dismissed."

Tupps straightened to full attention and snapped off a crisp salute that Amelia returned before the young officer turned and departed. Things were very wrong. How had the pirates been able to cross the demilitarized zone without being detected? How had they gathered enough ships for this raid? And how had they been able to work together so effectively?


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter X**

"My lord, Jack. Have you ever seen anything like this?"

Jack turned to find Fidda walking up the broad dock towards him, her boot heels tapping a somber cadence on the metal planking.

"No, lass," Jack replied, unusually subdued. He certainly had never seen destruction on this scale before. "Not in all me days."

They were standing on one of the main wharves of the orbital station above Situla. All about were smashed ships and burnt out structures that had served as the offices and warehouses of the Fleet base. A large civilian ship lay canted over, crushing one dock under its smoldering hulk. Another civilian ship wafted smoke from its deck hatches. All of its rigging was gone, stumps of masts poked up from the battered deck, but upon her stern a crew of spacers worked to clear the debris from the drive. She was not a total loss then. Other vessels hung at their moorings with skeleton crews doing what they could to effect repairs. The whole wharf was cluttered with the remnants of cargoes and pieces of equipment torn from the ships.

The flotilla had been challenged again when it had approached the space port. This had been an actual patrol launch, though, it clearly had been damaged during the raid. Black scorch marks had ringed the gunwale and all of the launch's rigging was new. The drive seemed to have been salvaged from another launch as the numbers painted on its cowling were different from those upon the prow. A brief exchange between Amelia and the ensign in charge of the launch had resulted in the flotilla being escorted to the main wharf. On their way in they had passed many vessels like the ones they could see from their current berth. All three of the small ships of Amelia's flotilla were moored to a single dock originally intended for a ship of the line. Apparently there had been no ship at this mooring when the attack had occurred. There was no evidence of damage, at any rate.

At the end of the long wharf where the patrol launch had left them they could see three warships smashed to splinters. Their hulls were breached, clearly their had been great loss of life among the crews and yet there were men hauling cannon from the wrecks and loading them onto a heavy barge. Jack had thought at first that the cannon were being prepared for transport to a new ship, but no. As one cannon was swung aboard the men had quickly unlashed the rigging and by main force they had hauled it across the deck of the barge to a position behind an armored panel where they began to make it fast to the deck plates. The barge was going to be some sort of mobile gun platform. These men were not willing to give up.

"I've never known pirates of any sort that could do a thing like this." Obviously, Fidda was impressed by the scale of destruction. "This had to be by order of one of the Bosses."

"The Bosses?" Jack asked. "The ones what run the Expanse?"

"Aye," Fidda said, still looking at the extensive damage. "They make the rules. Each one holds sway over a different territory. They get together whenever there's a dispute or something else that involves all of them. Sometimes they go to war with each other. It all depends on what the other members of the Council think."

Amelia joined them just then, Mr. Brraadtt and Mr. Weyt accompanied her. They waited for a few minutes in silence before a very tall, lean and harried looking Dresdien dock master in filthy and smoke stained coveralls approached. His lean frame and his slumping posture spoke of too many hours spent in the effort of getting the wharves back into a serviceable condition. Such a condition had not yet been achieved.

"Ma'am," said the dock master, knuckling his brow by way of greeting. "I'm Quartermaster Heirri. The patrol launch said you were Commodore Amelia."

"That's correct, Quartermaster," Amelia replied. She looked around at the apparent chaos. "How bad is it?"

"Better today than yesterday, Ma'am. We should be able to have five slips ready for service tomorrow." The quartermaster wiped a grubby handkerchief across his soot stained, orange face, mopping a spot between his eye stalks as though it itched. He gestured in the direction of the smashed warships. "We'll be towing those hulks into a stable orbit as soon as we've scavenged the guns off them."

"Which ships were they?" Amelia asked.

"They were privateers, Ma'am," Heirri said. "I don't know what ships they were. The dock master that signed them in was killed during the attack and his records haven't been recovered yet. I've had things more pressing to do than speak with their masters."

"I suspect so," Amelia said thoughtfully. "Where can I find Captain Pillorey, Quartermaster?"

"He's down at the far end of the wharf, Ma'am," Heirri said pointing in the direction of a cloud of smoke. "He is looking over the damage done there. Awful sight, it is, Ma'am. _Courageous_ is there. Lots of our boys dead."

The expression on the dock master's face caused Amelia to speak more gently towards him. Not quite professional, but under these circumstances it was the right thing to do.

"Perhaps, Quartermaster, it would be best if you returned to your duty while we conduct ourselves to see him."

"Thank you, Commodore." Heirri knuckled his brow again and strode back down the dock to where a work party was moving a pallet of crates.

* * *

><p>Jack didn't know what to make of what his eyes were telling his brain. As they had approached Jack had assumed they would find another harried and haggard Fleet captain. Instead, he had spied a four armed, rather dashing looking officer with deep red skin wearing what looked like a green version of the standard Fleet uniform, gesticulating frantically while arguing with a stout shrub wrapped in a regulation officer's jacket. Jack closed his eyes and counted to ten as he walked. Normally that would have cleared his mind of the hallucination but when he opened his eyes it was still there.<p>

"Can you not see my point?" demanded the red skinned man of the shrub. "If the dock isn't cleared then I can't off load my cargo nor can I load new stores. The ship's fine. She doesn't need any repairs except some minor things we can tend to ourselves. I just need a few work crews to clear my dock."

"There are no crews available, Captain Svikari," rumbled a voice from the shrub.

Jack checked in his stride. He looked quickly to his companions. None of them reacted. He must be hearing things. The voice sounded much like a large woodwind instrument. Even at a dozen paces he could hear the vibration like the reed of an oboe. Quickly shoving his surprise aside, Jack skipped forward to regain his place behind Amelia.

"Alright!" snapped the four armed man. "Alright, Captain Pillorey, just give me a loader and my crew can clear the dock. We'll move everything to wherever you want it. No need for your crews to stop their work. We'll take care of it."

"All of the surviving loaders are in use by recovery crews, Captain." The shrub shifted to face the four armed man revealing a face of sorts made of twisted bark framed by slim branches in a manner suggestive of hair. There was no mouth or nose only a set of eyes that did not blink. "There are no loaders available. There are no work gangs available. There is no place for you to put your cargo because those warehouses have been destroyed along with the loaders that were in them. If you go down to the surface you will find that all of the main docks and warehouses in the capitol are smashed. You will be forced to off load your spoils in one of the other settlements or you will be forced to make your way to Mhones. A journey of at least a week, if I recall correctly. In any event, it is not my concern."

"Now see here, Pillorey!" shouted the man. He would have continued but Amelia interrupted.

"Captain Pillorey?" she asked of the shrub.

"Can you not wait your turn, woman?" the red man snapped without turning to look at Amelia.

Amelia went very still. Jack had seen her do this a number of times. Usually he was on the receiving end of what was about to happen and decided he would enjoy it this time as a spectator.

"I do beg your pardon, Captain," Amelia said deferentially in a sweet voice that mingled sarcasm with irritation. "I did not realize that your business was more important than the war effort."

"Now see here, woman!" the four armed man practically shouted as he spun. His hand, with a finger extended, rose to just under Amelia's chin as though he were scolding a child or forward servant. As soon as he saw Amelia's uniform the motion was arrested. He froze like that for just a moment while his mind processed exactly how large a mistake he had made. His posture relaxed. His hand dropped and the look on his face was like that of a man who has discovered he is standing next to a hornet's nest.

"You were saying, Captain?" Amelia asked mildly. The glint in her eyes was not mild at all. There were icebergs that were warmer. The man was completely at a loss. Jack thought he saw recognition in Svikari's black eyes. Not of Amelia's rank but of Amelia herself. "Oh. I see, Captain. You were finished. Allow me to present you with an observation of mine. To request assistance in unloading your cargo is natural and sensible. To insist that work gangs and loaders be allocated for your use when there is clearly a major crisis that they are engaged in setting right is not only shameful, counter productive and distracting for the administrator in charge but also nonsensical on a scale heretofore unrivaled in my experience. And for future reference, I am Commodore Amelia, appointed by Imperial commission as Commodore of Privateers. The proper way to address me is not as 'woman'. Do you understand, Captain?"

"Commodore of Pri... That's preposterous!" snapped Captain Svikari. He had been wilting under Amelia's gaze until he'd heard her rank and position. "There hasn't been a Commodore of Privateers in years. We won't stand by for that, I can tell you."

And that was when things almost turned ugly. Brraadtt stepped forward with his fists clenched and his eyes drawn down close in on his skull the way they did when he was about to fight. The only thing that held him back was Mr. Weyt laying a hand on his shoulder. Captain Svikari took a nervous step backward bumping into Captain Pillorey.

"I take it, Captain, that you are a privateer," Amelia said flatly.

"Yes, Ma'am," Svikari said still eyeing Brraadtt warily. "The owner of my ship will want to see your documents."

"Will he?" Amelia smiled. "He may want many things but if he wants to see those documents he needs merely to consult the official record. I am not answerable to him. For you I say, return to your ship and make what plans you may. Do not leave this port. If you know any other privateers currently moored here, tell them that I will call a general meeting of captains and masters as soon as I have gotten some details and a general overview of the situation. You are dismissed, Captain."

Without so much as a nod Svikari stalked off down the wharf fuming. Amelia paid him no mind at all, instead she turned to the shrub. Taller than Jack by at least two feet Captain Pillorey loomed over Amelia as he came to attention and saluted with a thick, woody arm. Amelia saluted crisply in return then got right down to business.

"Captain Pillorey," she said extending her credentials to him. "I am Commodore of Privateers Amelia Doppler."

Pillorey took the folded wallet and opened it. He quickly scanned the first page then upon glancing over the second he looked up with what Jack presumed was wariness. Pillorey's eyes returned to the page and read through the document more carefully before handing it back.

"What can I do for you, Commodore?" Pillorey asked politely but still wary. Jack could not understand where the sound was coming from.

"I do not wish to interrupt your work here, Captain." Amelia gestured at the hulk of the ship that a work gang was currently stripping the fouled rigging from. "Will there be a time today that you could call on me aboard my ship?"

"The men do not need my direction to complete this task, Commodore," Pillorey said. "We can speak here now, if you like."

"Very well," Amelia said stepping up next to the strange plant captain. "I will need a list of the privateers currently operating out of this port. My ships will need to renew their provisions. Any reports that are available regarding the activity of hostile forces in this sector would be most greatly appreciated."

"Will you be assuming command of this station?" Pillorey asked deferentially.

"That is not part of my mission, Captain," Amelia replied with a slight inclination of her head. It had been courteous of the captain to ask. "I am perfectly willing to provide advice or assist in any way that I can, though."

"Thank you, Ma'am." Pillorey scratched what passed for his chin in thought. "At the moment we are conducting salvage and repair operations, as you have no doubt observed. Captain Lorne and Captain Green have been advising me on several matters and their advice thus far has proven to be most useful. Captain Lorne is a very practical man and sees things here not so hopelessly as many do."

"Lorne?" Amelia asked a little surprised. "He was captain of the _Courageous_ when it was on display at the academy."

"The Admiralty ordered him to sail here shortly after the Battle of Muliphein. The _Courageous_ was refitted in these docks and brought up to strength here, also," Pillorey said.

"But surely he is beyond retirement age. Lorne is nearly as old as the ship."

"He was first lieutenant in her last battle against the Procyon," Pillorey nodded. "The Admiralty seemed to think that no other officer would know the ship so well and no other officer would sail her as well as Captain Lorne."

"And here she is smashed in spite of it," Amelia gestured at the listing warship. "How did the pirates do so much damage, Captain?"

"They caught us with our pants down, Commodore," a new voice called from up the dock.

Standing, leaning on a cane was a withered looking old creature in a baggy captain's uniform. His breast was laden with decorations and awards that glittered in the sunlight. His bicorn hat rode sideways on his narrow skull with a blue and white cockade standing out proudly from the front.

"They came in from the direction we least expected." The old officer waved his cane back towards the Empire. "Slipped across the border somewhere and looped in from dead space like they knew their business. Then before we could make sail they slammed a few hundred cannon shot into the port and crippled everything in sight. Passed right on to the planet before the batteries could range them properly. We scored a few hits but it wasn't enough. They hit the governor's home and the Fleet headquarters before they moved on to strike the docks down there. It was the _Crescent_ that saved the day. Damn! but Piet knows how to fight. Raked them with a dozen broadsides as he circled in. The port's batteries came to bear on them about then too. They didn't disperse like we expected, though. They came at us in line with a few of their faster ships fending off _Crescent_. When the main body crossed us they let loose with everything they had and you can see the results."

"Commodore Amelia, may I present Captain Lorne of the _Courageous_," Pillorey said with a slight bow accompanied by the rustle of foliage.

"She knows me, Captain," the old officer said. His eyes danced with suppressed mirth. "I still remember the day your grandfather brought you aboard _Alliance_, all wide eyes and questions. I see the Admiralty has finally made amends for at least one blunder. Commodore Amelia now, not little Amy anymore. Your father would be very proud."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter XI**

"This is all very interesting and very disturbing, Uncle Hwosse," Amelia said to Captain Lorne who had retired with her to her cabin aboard the _Smollette_. They had discussed the situation in the port and on the planet. The nature and strength of the defenses. The relative strengths and weaknesses of the various ship's captains and those of Captain Pillorey, also.

To Lorne's mind the planetary defenses were just adequate to defending the ports. Overall, the Planetary Militia was not bad but it was far from being a professional force. There were a few bright spots, those being former regular officers, but the majority of the force was too used to being weekend soldiers. Their weapons were also badly outdated, as was usual for militia. The population was willing to defend their world but they had more spirit than judgement. Against pirates Lorne reckoned they would do, but if the next attack came as hard and fast and as well coordinated as the last one he doubted that the planet could withstand it.

The port was in a bad way. Most of the batteries were back in operation but several of the key defensive points had been specially targeted. The structures, along with the guns, had been crushed. To counter this, Pillorey had immediately begun assembling floating gun platforms that were to be moored where the destroyed batteries had been. Pillorey might be an engineer but he knew how to take advice and how to solve problems. The Hourn had been at this sort of thing for close onto four-hundred years. Lorne liked him.

"What can you tell me of Captain Svikari, specifically?" Amelia asked the old captain.

"Seems to be a good privateer, only that he rarely brings in a prize." Captain Lorne rubbed a thick, leathery finger across his stubbly chin.

"Odd. Why do you say he's a good privateer then?" Amelia asked. Privateers made the bulk of their money from prize ships sold to the Imperial Fleet Treasury agents who worked for the Admiralty Department.

"Mostly he brings in cargo," Lorne said. "Now and again he will send in a nice fat prize or tow in some straggling little ship that he picked up near the end of a cruise. It's not nearly as often as most privateers. His cargoes are always of good quality stuff. He never has any trouble selling them. And they are very clearly items that the pirates of the Expanse would value. He and his crew make a large profit. He seems to have very few casualties, too."

"How few?" Amelia's eyes narrowed.

"Since I've been here, none." The old captain settled back in his chair with a frown. "I heard that he lost only fifteen men before that. Some boarding action or other, I believe."

"No captain is that lucky," Amelia mused. "I've been in fights where I lost no men nor were any injured but that was when I struck without warning, without need to capture a prize, without need to board or take a vessel. Only once did I lose no men at all when taking a prize. And that was a near run thing. It's odd if not suspicious."

"Aye," Captain Lorne agreed with Amelia. "He's a puzzle. What I worry about, though, is how we are supposed to protect the colonies in this sector if the pirates are slipping past our patrols. More so now that our numbers are cut in half. Down to four ships until we can re-float the Courageous and Salamar. Situala was under strength to start with. I don't suppose we can expect any replacements."

"Not for some time," Amelia confirmed. She pushed her thoughts on Captain Svikari aside for later consideration. She went on, "I've been able to help with that to a degree but the priority will be the main battle front. The Empire is in grave need of crews as well. The newspapers are full of stories about how there is a shortage of everything, even officers. I know that is not true. There is a waiting list of officers some hundreds long. I saw work gangs of able bodied men standing around the docks at Mhoth. The captain of one of my ships recruited two thirds of his crew from their ranks. They'd all be willing to sign on if they were given a reason to."

"Amy," Lorne said looking at her out of the corner of his eye as he slumped in his chair. "There's more going on than what you've told me, isn't there?"

"I'm sure of it," Amelia nodded. "I'm not sure, however, what exactly is going on or how to counter it. It's something important, I know that much."

"How important?"

"This important," Amelia said and slid her credentials across the small table to him.

Lorne frowned as he picked them up. His frown slackened while he read through the first page and then fell completely away when he turned to the second. He read carefully, then looked up at her.

"How did this come about?" he asked setting the credentials back in front of her carefully.

"I needed to rescue a pirate."

* * *

><p>Amelia met with the privateer captains later that evening. Fidda and Jack were both there and out front of the counting house she had commandeered for the evening a crowd of spacers had gathered. Spacers from the Smollette under command of Mr. Closton kept them from entering during the meeting.<p>

Twelve captains were present in addition to Amelia's officers. They wore various degrees of actual military uniforms seeming gathered from across the Empire. Some wore old Fleet jackets while others wore civilian uniforms modified to conform to more military cuts. One made no attempt to look like a naval officer whatever. Instead he wore the simple black jacket and wheel cap of a common asteroid harvester. It was the sort of gear easily discarded to don and environment suit if the need arose. He sat quietly in the back of the room munching on a ship's biscuit and listening to the subdued chatter. The other captains seemed to avoid him. Several were clustered around Captain Svikari apparently exchanging hot words about the legal and financial implications of a Commodore of Privateers.

Amelia looked up from the notebook she had been reading from and cleared her throat in a polite attempt to gain their attention. No one paid her any mind. She frowned. Jack saw her reaction, stood and placing two fingers in his mouth whistled loudly. All heads turned in his direction.

"Thank you, Captain Sparrow," Amelia said evenly. Jack smiled and sat in his loose jointed way. "Now, gentlemen, let us get a few things cleared up. I am Commodore Amelia. I have been appointed Commodore of Privateers by Imperial decree. All of you know what that means. If you do not, look up the regulations in your letters of marque."

"We won't stand for it!" snapped one of the officers near Svikari.

"Then your ship will be commandeered, you will lose your letter of marque and may be imprisoned until the Maritime Court has time to hear your case. At the rate things are going, that could be several years."

Bursts of angry shouts and threats of legal action followed. The captains were working themselves into a fine state for a lynching and it was clear that Amelia was intended to be the one on the end of the rope. Jack sat a little straighter in his chair and Fidda loosened her sword in its scabbard. When some of the captains stood and began shaking their fists a piercing screech traveled slowly into the room. It came from near the back and slithered into the heads of everyone. Sharp invisible talons of sound were dragged across ear drums. Some who were standing sat down heavily with their hands over their ears while others who had been sitting stood stuffing their fingers deep into their auditory canals. All speech stopped. No more threats. No more demands or objections. They slowly turned to discover the source of the sound as it fell away. The taciturn captain in the back of the room took his hand away from the sheet of armored glass now bearing long streaks where his nails had disturbed the film of dirt on the surface that made up the room's only window. He gave them a satisfied smile.

"It's a bad business," he said. "Y'all know me. Know how I earn me money. I hunt pirates. Bring 'em in by the score, I do. Not one o' you lot has done as well at killin' 'em as me."

"Yes, Kwint. We know." said Svikari acidly. Clearly he did not like the plain dressed man. "Have you something more to say?"

"Aye, I have." Kwint bit another piece off his ship's biscuit. "This last raid. Not like the others we've heard of. Come in fast, they did. Not one or two but a score o' ships. This won't be like chasin' jolly boats out the asteroids. These pirates are bad. Maybe lookin' to expand their territory. Maybe lookin' to set up a new one. They'll swallow us whole. Little shakin', little tenderizin', an' down we go. Gotta get rid o' them. And we gotta do it quick. It's not goin' to be easy. This lady sounds as though she means business. I'm willin' to listen. Mayhap, you should too."

Silence fell again. None of the captains would look at Kwint longer than a moment. Instead, hard looks were bent on Amelia. She met them serenely.

"I understand that you have had a free hand to deal with the pirates from the expanse as you chose up until now," Amelia went on after a moment. "I am afraid we are faced with a situation that will require a more structured manner in which to deal with them. I believe it will prove profitable both in the short run and the long."

That got their attention. Several shifted in their chairs including two by Svikari.

"It's a matter of helping to maintain the integrity of the shipping lanes in this sector. With the Fleet presence reduced by recent events and the lack of support available from the remaining Fleet assets it falls to us to secure our own flanks and safety. That makes us worth more, too."

She now had their undivided attention. Even Kwint in the back stopped munching his biscuit.

"It is within my power to provide bounties for enemy vessels destroyed as well as those captured and brought in for sale." Amelia looked around the gathered captains meaningfully. Under normal circumstances a destroyed ship was worth nothing to a privateer. If Amelia was willing to pay for destroyed vessels the potential profit margin would be increased. "I have an outline for such a bounty already and will complete the details by tomorrow evening. Small vessels need not be taken in order for you to be paid. Simply destroy them and bring proof of their demise to the agents in this port and you will be rewarded. No waiting about for the sale of the goods. No need to weaken your ships by sending prize crews to sail them back. Larger ships will earn you more money if destroyed but not as much as if you were to take them as prizes. The small ships, you see, are more likely to be scouting for our weaknesses. Destroy them and the enemy goes blind. I'm willing to pay you to do so. This will free up the Fleet to strike where the enemy's strength is. My plan is to rotate your ships between patrols and cruises. There are more than enough privateers in this sector to keep the enemy bottled up. I'll be sailing for Mhones tomorrow after the details are worked out. Questions?"

There were many. The privateers wanted to know how much they would earn and what she meant by cruises and patrols. What part was she going to take in this plan? Was she going to be paid for prizes she took and who would determine if her share was not inflated? Many questions and answers were exchanged, all the while Fidda scowled at Amelia while Jack sat nonchalantly apparently disinterested. Long before the discussion was done, Kwint rose, tipped his hat to Amelia and strode out of the room.

* * *

><p>"But!" Fidda cried in protest after the captains had departed. "You said you were going to help me to find me da!"<p>

"Captain Silver!" Amelia snapped. Her voice was like the crack of a whip. The meeting had not been easy on Amelia. Her nerves were somewhat raw. "I am not abandoning you to your fate. I am not going to forget my obligation to your father. Circumstances have placed me in a difficult position, however. My first loyalty must be to the Empire. Private agreements can not be held above my oath. I must remain at Situla. I will return here after I visit Mhones. Until the base has regained its defenses and has re-floated as many ships as it can I can not abandon it. I am duty bound. The same does not hold for you and Captain Sparrow. You are both privateers with Imperial sanction to operate in the Expanse. My ship is well known on the other side of the border since the Battle of Muliphein. _Smollette_ would be reported as soon as she was spotted. We'd have a dozen ships dogging our trail until they could corner us. And that would not help your father at all."

"So you're sending us in alone?" Fidda demanded.

"Captain," Amelia began hotly but paused to calm herself. Fidda was unused to speaking to anyone who out ranked her except her father. "Captain Silver, you will kindly remember to address me as Commodore until you no longer serve under my command."

Fidda's eyes flashed with resentment but she quickly bit off the hard words that came to her mind. Instead she said simply, "Yes, Commodore."

"To answer your question," Amelia continued. "Even if I went with you we would be going in alone. Aside from some less than reputable traders and a few illegal mapping expeditions few Imperial vessels have crossed all of the way into the Expanse. The demilitarized zone is well charted and some of the nearer pirate settlements are known. We have a great deal of information on the shipping lanes just the other side of the border thanks to raids made over the years. The rest is hearsay. You know more about what the Expanse is like than I. My orders for the two of you are to cross into the Expanse and go to Port Cerberus. It's a hotbed of rumors as I have good reason to know from my experience when searching for my husband. I am sending Mr. Brraadtt with Captain Sparrow. He is familiar with the port and should be of great help. Gather information but do not attempt a rescue without me. If you run into more than you can reasonably handle, return here."

* * *

><p>The station had rounded the horizon of Situla bringing on what passed for its night before Jack got back to the <em>Witch<em>. He had begged off a dinner with Fidda knowing that she would want to discuss Amelia's plans. He didn't want to discuss anything at the moment. He had chosen to visit one of the very few grog shops that were still open on the station. Not satisfied by the local drink Jack had wandered among the docks to observe how the repairs were progressing while he cleared his mind and made his own plans. Soon after leaving the tavern he had detected someone on his trail. It was that same subtle feeling he had so often experienced when being watched.

"This again?" Jack muttered to himself in a tone expressing resigned irritation. As he had done at the Capitol he made no overt move to shake the pursuit. He simply wandered on his way until a convenient corner permitted him to dodge out of sight. He slipped behind a stack of crates and then down a narrow gap to emerge in what amounted to an alley between large pieces of some kind of machines. He ventured up this in the direction he had just come until he was just inside the shadows cast by the large metal things. The long-armed form of Bugio stood bemused near the corner where Jack had given him the slip. Jack paused to consider a moment before stepping out and calling to the creature with a slightly irritated tone.

"What are you doing here?" Jack demanded when Bugio was within easy hearing.

The hulking shoulders slumped slightly at Jack's tone the normally expressionless face slackened with something like confusion or embarrassment.

"Well?" Jack demanded.

"Osier told me to watch you," Bugio replied lamely.

"Did he?" Jack smiled mirthlessly. "Does he think I need protection here or is he worried that I will betray myself?"

Obviously uncomfortable with the situation Bugio looked down before answering, "Just told me to watch you."

Jack had then clapped him on the shoulder and walked the brute back to the tavern where he bought them both a round of drinks. After ten or twelve such rounds Bugio had fallen from his chair happily curling up on the floor. Jack had risen and staggered his way to the _Witch_. Now he entered his cabin on unsteady legs. He hung his hat on the back of the chair by the door before tossing his jacket to the floor. His bed looked very inviting and he intended to make good use of it. He was in the middle of pulling off his second boot when the object on his table registered on his waterlogged brain. His eyes slid sideways to the thing. He had no idea what it was. Wheels in his mind began to spin all trying to gain purchase in coherent thought but the thing on the table looked nothing like anything he had ever seen. He resolutely pulled his boots back on buying his mind time to work out what to do.

The object was similar to a cat-o-nine-tails but was far too small to serve that purpose. Jack extended a careful finger touching the smooth metal cylinder. It was no longer than his finger and seemed to be made of copper, There was a fine mesh screen at one end with half a dozen slim wires extending from the other. The metal was cool. Jack lifted it to examine the thing more closely. Five of the wires slumped into a gentle arc leaving the sixth sticking out rigidly. With narrowed, curious eyes Jack flicked it lightly. The wire whipped up and down rapidly for an instant before settling into its former state. Moving quickly, his drunkenness no longer impeding him, Jack threw on his jacket and hat stuffing the thing into his pocket. He left his cabin and swiftly found his way down onto the lower deck where Mr. Grugh hung his hammock.

"What is it?" Jack asked after Grugh had examined the device Jack had found. They had gone from Grugh's hammock to the locker where the wrights stored their tools. Jack was eyeing the thing intently.

"A listening device," Grugh replied. "A bit smaller than most of the ones I've seen but there's no doubt about it. Where did ye find it, Captain?"

"On my table," Jack said trying to comprehend what a listening device was. He finally asked.

"Well..." Grugh began slowly. He had not truly grasped the notion that Jack was from a world where the power of flight was so rare as to be almost entirely unknown. There listening devices were limited to things like brass horns inserted into the ear of a deaf person at need. "It's for hearing things from one location while ye be in another, sir."

"So if this were in my cabin someone in another cabin could hear me through this?" Jack asked.

"If they had a receiver." From the look on Jack's face Grugh could see he had used another term his captain was not familiar with. "Look, sir. It's like this. This device is like an ear. This mesh screen is where the sound goes in. The sound goes through this stiff little wire to be picked up by another stiff little wire on a device that works like a mouth. What this hears the other... speaks."

"Like the machine we use to send signals to ships when they're too far away to see our flags," Jack said finally catching on.

"Exactly like those, sir, 'cept this one is limited in range," Grugh said relieved that his captain understood.

"How limited?"

"Probably wouldn't reach off the ship," Grugh said.

Jack frowned. Who would have put this on his table? He knew who would have hidden it in his cabin but to leave it on the table made no sense. Unless...

"Had your tools put away lately, Mr. Grugh?"

"Aye, sir." Grugh glanced at Jack straining to link the question with the device they were examining. "This morning. I stepped out to the head and when I got back they were all back where I'd got them from. Why?"

"What's a device like this normally used for?" Jack countered.

"Spying," Grugh shrugged. It was a moment before his sleepy brain jumped to the conclusion Jack had come to. "You mean the _Witch_ pulled this out of wherever it had been hidden?"

"Aye, mate," Jack half smiled. "The _Witch_ seems to be lookin' after me again. I think I'll put me jacket on its hook tonight."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter XII**

The sun blazed high above the waters of the Caribbean with a strong, steady wind driving the_ Black_ _Pearl_ swiftly over the waves. Dolphins played in the bow wake as gulls swooped down off to larboard to snap up small fish from the blue-green surface. On the horizon was a dark smudge where the island of Tortuga awaited the _Pearl_ and her captain with its drinking dens and fleshpots. Jack smiled his broad wolf's grin in anticipation of rum and salty wenches. No more than two hours and he would be ashore with a drink in hand and Scarlet on his arm. Or maybe it would be Giselle. Definitely rum, though. Without warning the wind died and contrary to everything Jack knew about weather, clouds swarmed in on the breathless air to obscure the sun. The _Pearl _with her sails slack came to an ignoble halt. Thunder rattled through the rigging with a voice that sounded suspiciously like... Mr. Grugh?

"Captain!"

Jack's eyes fluttered open to the dim light filtering into his cabin through the small window. He groaned then blasphemed as he rolled onto his side to face the door.

"Captain Sparrow!" the voice from beyond the door called again urgently. It was Mr. Grugh and he sounded alarmed.

"What is it, man?" demanded Jack crossly. He coughed phlegm from his throat as he sat up in his bunk.

"We need ye on deck, sir!" Grugh shouted through the stout door. "Somethin' is happenin' down the dock by the _Smollette_! Might be trouble. Lots o' spacers gathered and they look like they mean business, sir."

Shaking out of his lethargy, Jack stamped his feet into his boots and snatched up his baldric to sling it over his shoulder. His sword was just settling in place when he threw open his cabin door to find a wide eyed Mr. Grugh standing in the companionway. Jack pushed past him without a second's hesitation, pounded along the companionway and up the ladder to the main deck. He strode quickly to the rail and looked down the long wharf to where _Smollette_ was moored. Grugh came panting up to stand next to him. The old spacer had been right. There was indeed a large gathering of men on the wharf. Many of them were armed and some were carrying what looked like sea chests and duffels over their shoulders. To Jack's eye they didn't look as if they were wanting trouble, though.

"Should I rouse the crew, sir?" Grugh asked grimly.

"No," Jack said still eyeing the crowd. "Go back to me cabin and get me hat and coat."

After Grugh returned with the required articles Jack turned to the quarterdeck. "Lieutenant Larry, I'm going down there to see what's happening. Take charge of the ship until Mr. Grugh and I return."

Lh'aer'ri, who had been gazing with concern at the crowd of spacers from the quarterdeck rail, turned and gave Jack a salute in acknowledgment of the order.

As they drew closer to _Smollette_ Jack and Grugh made out several voices rising above the murmuring of the crowd. There must have been a hundred and fifty spacers all gathered close to the gangplank of the commodore's brig. Jack distinctly heard Amelia's voice replying calmly to some question or other but he couldn't make out what she said. The two men eased their way around the edge of the crowd until they were only a few strides from Amelia. A spacer was addressing her.

"Ya see, ma'am, we was all aboard ships what was destroyed," the spacer said. "They be a floatin' in orbit now and we don' 'ave no way to pay back them what did it. We just wants a crack at 'em, Commodore. Just ta' show 'em who they're a dealin' with."

"I am more than thankful that you men have come to us," Amelia said in clear, ringing tones. "We have been sorely undermanned since leaving the Capitol. It greaves me to know that your ships were destroyed but I am pleased to offer you places aboard our three vessels. The _Morsa_ is in greatest need of men. The _Witch of Mirzam_ needs several officers and some experienced wrights to work her drive. Both are fine ships with good captains. Please form an orderly line and give your names and stations to Mr. Closton to be entered into our roles. We'll assign you after we know what you all can do."

"Commodore?" called a heavyset man of middle years from a few files back in the crowd. "Are any of you in need of a surgeon?"

"The _Witch_ has no medico of any sort aboard, sir." Amelia pointed to Jack. "Captain Sparrow is the man you'll need to see. Be patient, all of you. I will send for Captain Silver. We shall have things sorted out shortly."

And so they did. Jack took thirty men, two officers and six wrights from the crowd. Fidda was glad to have sixty of the fellows and bade them to stow their dunnage right away. _Smollette_ took on the rest and finally the little flotilla was manned up to full strength. It was a weight off Amelia's shoulders and a real stroke of luck that so many had wanted to sign on.

As he led the new crewmen to the _Witch_ Jack spoke amiably with his new surgeon, a man named Trevor Meriwether, a human who had made his living aboard ships since graduating university.

"My mother wanted me to set up in practice on our home world," Dr. Meriwether told Jack as they walked. "With the Procyon Armada making so much trouble for us at the time I felt my services were in greater need in the Fleet. So, I joined as an assistant surgeon on a ship of the line. I went from one ship to another until the end of the war. By then I had gotten a taste for the life aboard a fighting vessel and found my way out here. It's been quiet, mostly, up until you and the commodore stirred things up. Now we're seeing a lot more action. At least we were until the raid. I was lucky to have been down on the planet at the time. So many lads gone now." He shook his head sadly. "But we'll not forget them. And we'll show those bastards from the expanse that we won't lay down just because they caught us off our guard, eh?"

"Right you are, Doctor!" Jack cried enthusiastically and clapped the medico on the shoulder heartily. "We're sailing at noon. Not much time for you to settle in but I'm sure you'll find your cabin to your liking. We'll be sailing for a few days before there will be much chance of action. You'll have time to get things ordered more to your liking, I think."

Jack decided to promote Mr. Grugh from acting bosun to the official title. He also made a point to let everyone know that Mr. Grugh was still chief wright, though his duties commanding the larboard division would be attended to by one of the new bosun's mates. The remainder of the morning the entire crew was set to the task of taking on fresh supplies. Streams of men of all shapes, sizes and species were constantly hauling boxes and barrels of food stuffs and ammunition into the hold. Lieutenant Lh'aer'ri oversaw the disposition of the goods and attended to trimming the ship so that she would have the greatest advantage in her speed and handling. The last of the crates were lashed in place just before the noon rise when all hands were piped to their stations.

The lines were cast off throwing Jack's stomach into the now familiar summersault as the _Witch of Mirzam_ switched from the station's gravity feed to her own. Up she rose gracefully above the docks and work gangs to be joined a moment later by the _Morsa_. Below, the crew of _Smollette_ cheered them on their way, waving hands and neckerchiefs enthusiastically. Mr. Brraadtt stood close by Jack as they corrected their heading. Next to the old spacer was Broad Foot. The little Raposa looked about him with narrowed eyes. There seemed to be something about the ship that did not sit well with him. Jack payed it little mind as he monitored the actions of his crew. As the sails filled and swelled so did his chest. The _Witch_ was running before the wind with her rigging thrumming. The feel of her deck vibrating beneath his feet made Jack feel almost as if he were at sea instead of cast adrift amongst the stars. Soon, very soon he would be on his way home. He just had to see this through.

* * *

><p>Intepere Kaholo walked awkwardly along the narrow companionway carrying a double handful of the new cannon crystals they were installing in the tertiary linkages. All of the cannons were being overhauled one by one with the work being carried out by crewmen who would work them in battle. The crew had returned to this labor intensive chore after the <em>Morsa<em> had gotten under way and all of the rigging was dressed as Captain Silver wished. _Morsa_ was having an easier time following the _Witch_ now that her drive was in better order.

A voice, muffled but clearly agitated, came from behind the door to the ward room. "I do not see why I have to wear this jacket!"

Curious, Intepere stopped and peered at the door with a frown.

"Amelia wants you to look like a pirate," replied another voice.

Intepere recognized the voices as belonging to Lieutenant Alamimo and the Earth girl Anamaria respectively. What were they on about?

"But surely, a tailor or even a haberdasher in the port or even on the surface would have had a new jacket," Alamimo grumbled.

"A new jacket would look like you were trying to look like a pirate," Anamaria explained patiently.

Look like a pirate? Intepere couldn't make head or tail of it. Why would anyone want to look like a pirate?

"Maybe we can do somet'ing 'bout the pantaloons," Anamaria said.

"What?" Alamimo groused. "Burn them?"

Pantaloons? Lieutenant Alamimo wearing pantaloons sounded ridiculous. Maybe to sleep in?

"Tell me that I at least will be allowed to wear a blouse," Alamimo growled.

"No blouse," said Anamaria matter-of-factly.

Intepere nearly dropped the crystals at that one. Would the lovely young lieutenant be going about the ship topless? He felt himself flush at the thought. In spite of his upbringing Intepere leaned a bit closer to the door trying to hear more of the conversation. What exactly was going on?

"Ya gonna be all day wit' dem crystals, boy?" snapped the new spacer who was seeing to the tertiary linkages. "Come away from there!"

"Sorry," Intepere apologized as he set the crystals on the deck where they were working. "I just... got... distracted."

"Don' git distracted when work's to be done," grumbled the new spacer. He was a gangly, raw boned creature the like of which Intepere had never seen before. His name was Kreed and he seemed confident of himself, somehow radiating a disdain for the menial task the two of them had been assigned. "See thut nut there? Take it off an' pull the old crystal out."

Intepere knelt by the conduit taking up the wrench and removing the nut. He had to rap the handle of the wrench a few times before the threads released enough for the nut to turn. Finally it came free and he was able to remove the cover revealing the blackened crystal behind it. How could this have carried any power? There were several fractures showing through the scorching.

"Careful to get the facets aligned right," growled Kreed. "Don' want this here conduit blowin' out in the middle of a fight, do ya, boyo?"

For all his bossing and grumbling Kreed seemed perfectly content to let Intepere do all of the work while Kreed leaned on the bulkhead and smoked a foul smelling cheroot.

"What did ye hear at thut door, anyway?" Kreed asked after a moment.

"What?" Intepere asked. He hadn't been paying full attention to Kreed.

"The door, knot head! What did ye hear?" Kreed demanded.

"Oh, that." Intepere shrugged. "Something about a new jacket for the lieutenant."

"The lieutenant?" Kreed grinned down at Intepere lasciviously. "Now there's a pretty wench if ever I laid eyes 'pon one. Thut commodore, too. Wouldn't mind a roll in the sack with either o' them, eh?"

Kreed barked out a harsh, wheezing laugh. To his surprise Intepere rose scowling at him. The smile fell from Kreed's face.

"Say no more about either of those ladies in my presence, Mr. Kreed." There was a very hard, cold gleam in the young spacer's eyes as they bore into the older man's. "I warn you only this once."

"Aye? Do ye now, laddie?" Kreed was not impressed by this soft as butter little pip squeak. He'd fought pirates for twenty years and wasn't about to let some wet behind the ears little nothing talk to him like that. He slammed his forehead into Intepre's face and drove a fist into the boy's gut. The mistake was that Heliwr anatomy was much different than that of the foes Kreed had fought before. The blows did drop Intepere to the deck but he was only knocked down, not hurt. Intepere responded to the attack with one of the first self defense moves he had been taught. As he rose from the deck he punched Kreed in the groin combining the strength of his arm with the power in his legs to literally lift the gangly Kreed off the flooring with the blow. Kreed crumpled to the hard deck curled into a ball unable to so much as breath.

"What's going on here?" demanded a voice a few steps down the passage. Intepere turned to find Lieutenant Alamimo casting a narrow eyed glare at them. "Speak up."

"Um..." Intepere began. He was trying to reason out how to explain the situation. If he told the whole truth his shipmates would turn their backs on him, he knew. But if he told only part of the truth he was certain it would not satisfy the angry lieutenant.

"I slipped on one of the loose crystals ma'am," Kreed wheezed out through gritted teeth. "Nothin' amiss, Lieutenant."

"Odd," said Alamimo. "It looked to me as if this spacer just struck you."

"Oh no, ma'am!" Kreed responded trying to get to his knees. "He was only tryin' to catch me when I was a fallin', is all."

Intepere looked from the officer to the older spacer wondering what was actually happening. Why was Kreed trying to keep him from getting in trouble? Out of the corner of his eye Intepere saw Anamaria place a hand on Alamimo's shoulder and whisper something in her ear. Alamimo flashed her a confused look and then glanced back to the two spacers. She frowned but her eyes lingered on Intepre for a moment before she spoke again.

"Very well. If you aren't badly hurt get on with the work. We don't want to be caught with any of our weapons down."

"Right away, ma'am," Kreed said knuckling his brow as he struggled to rise from the deck. "The lad and I are nearly done, ma'am."

The women went back into the ward room. Anamria cast a quick, knowing smile at Intepere before she closed the door.

"Hand me the wrench, lad. I might as well finish this up since I'm down here already." Kreed said sinking back to his knees apparently content with the situation though still in obvious pain. They completed the work and said no more than was necessary to do so.

* * *

><p>"Captain Sparrow, there's something I wish to speak to you about." Jack turned to find his first officer standing a few paces away from him on the quarterdeck. Normally, no one would have dared to approach the captain while he paced this particular portion of the quarterdeck as it was deemed a captain's private sanctuary only to be entered either by his permission or on urgent matters affecting the ship. Jack gave Lh'aer'ri a nod by way of reply.<p>

"I'm concerned that I may not be fit for service at this time," Lh'aer'ri said gravely.

"Really?" Jack asked bemused and amused at the same moment. Lh'aer'ri seemed the last person that would admit any such thing. Both arms gone, half an eye missing and his most recent wound, the missing leg, had not stopped him from returning again and again to fight and to sail. What could have prompted such a sudden change of mind? "Are you sick, Larry?"

"No! Or... maybe I am," Lh'aer'ri looked down at the deck frowning. "I'm not ill of body, Captain. It isn't that. I think I might be losing ma mind, sir."

Jack had to admit that anyone willing to serve with so many missing parts had to have some sort of madness but Lh'aer'ri hadn't been bothered by it before.

"Losing your mind? Why ever would you think that?" Jack asked him.

"It's the new jacket, sir," Lh'aer'ri said sheepishly. "And a number of other things I've noticed since coming aboard the _Witch_, sir."

"What about the new jacket?"

"Well, sir, you told me to get it stitched up by the sail maker and I was going to do that." Lh'aer'ri was clearly uncomfortable and would not meet Jack's eyes. "I left it laying on ma bunk, sir, intending to give it to him once we were on course and there was time for him to make the changes to it. When I went down to get it just now, sir, it wasn't on ma bunk. It was hanging on the peg behind the door, sir. Not only that, it had already been stitched and mended. I know it sounds impossible but here it is, sir."

Jack took the frock coat Lh'aer'ri proffered to him. The sleeves were folded back and stitched in place the same as the Fleet jacket his first office now wore. The garment had also been opened in the back to create two neat gaps where Lh'aer'ri's tentacles would fit easily through the cloth. The stitching was very fine and precise with neatly tied ends that would have done any tailor credit.

"What other things have you noticed, Larry?" Jack asked continuing to examine the garment.

"Ma boots, sir," Lh'aer'ri said stiffly. "I like to have them by ma bunk in case there is an emergency and I need them quick, but every morning I find them tucked under ma sink, sir. If I leave anything on the table and step out for a moment it vanishes. I always find it wherever I got it from but there is no way for it to have gotten back there because no one but me would have moved it. I left ma sword out the other day, sir, intending to sharpen the blade after dinner and when I got back to ma cabin it had been hung up where I always put it and the blade's edge was as fine as I could ask. And the stone had been put back into ma kit. Not only that, sir, ma kit had been organized as neatly as if it were inspection day! I left a plate with some food scraps on it on ma table the other night because I was too tired to take it back to the galley before turning in after ma watch. In the morning the food was gone, the plate and utensils were so clean they gleamed! And they were set as if for a meal with one of ma handkerchiefs as a napkin, sir. Am I going mad? Could I be doin' all o' these things and not knowing it, sir?"

Jack was running his finger along one of the neat seams of the jacket when his finger met something that lightly pricked him. It didn't draw blood but it got his attention. With the nails of his finger and thumb he carefully drew it from between the layers of cloth. A small, fine feather came free. It was light brown with grey and white stripes like the feather of a hawk or falcon. The only bird-like members of Amelia's command were on the _Smollette_. Jack had none aboard the _Witch_. It was far too stiff to be down from a pillow and too small to have come from any of the bird people anyway.

"Sir?" Lh'aer'ry persisted.

"You aren't mad, Larry," Jack said taking a surreptitious look around. "Mr. Grugh and I have noticed similar things ever since we stepped aboard the _Witch_. Keep it quiet and enjoy the benefits for the moment, man. Leave it to me."

Jack handed the frock coat back to his officer with a smile and a wink. Lh'aer'ri took it from him looking confused but relieved. He saluted his captain and left the quarterdeck with a much more confident stride than he had come to it with.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter XIII**

The old ship creaked and groaned gently under the stresses of the sails and the drive. She was very old but still sound and in spite of what Mr. Weyt said about the _Morsa_, she was in no danger of coming apart or even blowing out one of her capacitors. _Morsa_ was old but not decrepit. Listening to the familiar noises of the ship Fidda slumped back in her chair and wished her father were on board and in command. This was more than she was ready for. Her old hands had always obeyed her orders and she could sail the ship as well anyone but all of this responsibility was too much. Worse, there was no one to talk to except Jack and he was in command of his own ship. She supposed that she could always talk to Lieutenant Alamimo but that woman was such a stick in the mud. She was always so proper. Why not relax and have some fun? Have a drink, for crying out loud! A person didn't always have to be prim and proper. And what had she and Jack done on that moon, anyway?

With a shocked and consternated expression Fidda sat slowly upright as if she were being gradually inflated. Now why had she wondered that? Back at the Capitol she had teased the young officer out of a malicious boredom but that's all it had been, right? After all, it had been her own choice to send Jack on his way. He wouldn't be happy out here so far from the world he loved. At least he loved its oceans. Fidda had to admit to herself that Jack had made them sound beautiful. And the life aboard one of their primitive ships sounded very romantic and just a little risky. But still, she had been the one to say no so why did she suddenly have this feeling that maybe Jack wouldn't have been a bad choice for her? He was certainly handsome enough. Oh those eyes of his! Enough to haunt a girl's dreams, they were. And he was so very brave and dashing. And he knew how to have fun. Fidda found herself snickering uncontrollably when she thought of the way he walked. Not the most manly of men, actually. She caught hold of herself when a knock came at her door.

"Captain, there's a signal from the _Witch_," said one of the new spacers she'd taken on at Situla.

"I'll be there in a minute," she said getting to her feet. This was another of those things she didn't like about being captain. All hours of the day and night she was called to the quarterdeck to observe some irregularity and to determine how it should be dealt with. With her jacket pulled on and her hat in hand she made for the ladder to the main deck.

"Captain," said Lieutenant Alamimo as Fidda joined her at the quarterdeck rail. The Pajakian was wearing her new pirate costume. The black jacket and striped britches made from those ridiculous pantaloons looked very convincing even if Alamimo acted nothing like a pirate. She was just too stiff. "The _Witch_ signals all stop."

"Does he say why?" Fidda asked taking the proffered spyglass from her first officer.

"No, Captain," Alamimo replied still straining her eyes toward the corvette.

"Lookout," shouted Fidda up to the maintop. "Report."

"There's a ship, I think, Captain, adrift three points off the starboard bow." The lookout pointed to a dot some distance ahead of the _Witch_.

"Helm, steer a course to bring us alongside of the _Witch_." Fidda turned to Alamimo. "Drop sail and prepare for all stop."

* * *

><p>"I don' like it, Cap'n," grumbled Mr. Grugh. "Me horns is itchin'. Seems too out of place. Who would leave a derelict in this parsec?"<p>

"Aye, Captain," agreed Lieutenant Lh'aer'ri. "These currents are so still, sir, she couldn't have drifted off from anywhere."

Jack seemed to be deep in contemplation as he gazed through one of the powerful lenses and did not answer immediately. His focus was a few points to the notional east of the drifting ship where a field colossal boulders drifted lazily in an extreme orbit around a huge gas giant. The silence stretched so long that his officers began to suspect he was ignoring them. Finally the glass came away from his eye and he gave them a speculative glance.

"She's adrift in a calm, you think?" Jack asked after a moment his index finger poised at the corner of his mouth in that way his officers had come to understand meant he was planning something. Mr. Grugh hadn't known Captain Sparrow all that long but the two had spent much time together in recent weeks and the old spacer was sure he could read his captain's expressions fairly well by now. Jack went on, "Those bloody great rocks there..."

"Asteroids, sir," Lh'aer'ri corrected instinctively.

"...Ast'roids," Jack drawled the word trying to maintain his stream of thought. "Good place for a ship or two to hide, wouldn't you say?"

"Bypass it then, sir?" Grugh asked hopefully.

Jack only smiled in reply before striding over to the port rail where the _Morsa_ had just come to rest.

* * *

><p>"I don't like this, Captain," Alamimo said levelly. Normally she would hold her tongue but Captain Sparrow was not the most experienced officer when it came to tactics out here in the Etherium. She couldn't understand why he had turned the <em>Witch<em> back down their original course. It made no sense to her. If there was a pirate ambush in store for the _Morsa_, surely the _Witch_ should have stayed close to support her. This reminded her entirely too much of the events in the tunnel on Azha. She still had nightmares about them.

"I don't much care for it either, Lieutenant, but we have our orders," Fidda replied putting a derisive tone on the last word. "I've seen Jack in action, though. He's pretty resourceful. Has a knack for staying alive."

"With your permission, Captain, I'll order the sharpshooters to the tops," Alamimo said wanting to be in motion. Needing to get something done that might prepare them for what was to come.

Fidda gave her a firm nod but kept her eyes on the drifting vessel. It was fairly large, a galleon of a design unfamiliar to her. No banner or flag was visible to tell who she belonged to and at this distance and angle she could read no name. They sailed on, nerves on edge.

* * *

><p>Captain Cohl of the <em>Wake Herald<em> was pleased with his trap. He'd set it up in hopes of luring in just such a nice little prize as this brig. He'd seen the drive plumes of the two vessels as they had approached and then stopped. He'd watched as the wiser one had turned back and he had laughed as this one came on. The old galleon wasn't worth much in her condition but this little brig would make a nice addition to his coffers once she'd been taken. Survivors could be sold at Port Cerberus. Slaves always brought profit. At full power they were nearly half way to the brig when the smile got wiped from his face.

* * *

><p>When <em>Morsa<em> finally came alongside the galleon its deck was deserted. There were signs of battle but not recent ones. Rigging and tackle were jumbled. Guns were stowed. Her firing ports locked shut. Crewmen assembled at the _Morsa's_ rail and cast grapnels over to the galleon, hauling on the lines until the hulls touched. Even at this point the spacers looked reluctant to go aboard. Alamimo lead five men to explore the ship. They had just crossed onto her deck when a shout went up from the lookout.

"Sail ho!"

All eyes turned to look in the direction he pointed. That was when a terrible cry rang out from the galleon's deck hatches and a flood of pirates poured out, weapons waving. Alamimo wheeled on the attackers flaying their ranks with her pistol. The young Heliwr was at her side with a short barreled musket. He slammed rounds into the charging pirates at a rate that would soon melt the barrel or shatter the crystals in the chamber, but there was nothing else they could do. The pirate's charge faltered as the other three boarders joined in. They had not been expecting such sudden and strong resistance. From the fighting tops of the Morsa a rain of musket balls bathed the galleon's deck in crackling energy. Fidda ordered the lines to be cut and commanded her starboard batteries to fire on the incoming ship.

* * *

><p>Jack had taken the lessons of the Battle of Muliphein to heart. He knew how ships acted in this empty blackness even if he did not fully grasp why. As he had observed the great mountains of rock Lh'aer'ri called assetaroyds... aserteroys... aster... whatever Larry had called them... Jack had remembered that it would take only a small explosion to send one hurting through space and that it would not change its course unless something hit it or it hit something. He saw no reason that a ship would not do the same.<p>

"Captain," Lh'aer'ri said uncertainly. "I don't mean to be questioning your orders, but will you tell me why we are running away from that ship?"

"So we can do this," Jack said dropping the spyglass from his eye. He began urgently barking orders to come about and make all sail and best speed. The crew, startled, leapt into action bringing the rigging up as quickly as mortals could. Lh'aer'ri was forced to take hold of the mainsail sheets so as not to tumble over the side.

"Mr. Grugh!" Jack shouted down the power room speaking tube. "At my command, shut off the drive."

"Kill the power?" Grugh called back bewildered. "At this speed, sir?"

"Just make the flame out the stern stop and turn out the lamps," Jack barked. "I want no lights to be seen from another ship."

"Oh... Aye, sir..." Grugh replied puzzled.

* * *

><p>Alamimo had lost two of her little boarding party but the other three had taken cover with her by the guns of the galleon's starboard batteries. They were trading shots with the pirates now cowering behind whatever cover they had been able to find. She saw there were not as many as she had first thought. Maybe fifty had swarmed from the hatches and they had lost half a dozen to the fusillade and perhaps as many were wounded. That still left more than enough pirates to wipe out Alamimo's little boarding party. <em>Morsa<em> was a ship's length away out where she could maneuver. Very pragmatic of the captain to leave the galleon and Alamimo's party but not at all reassuring. Before _Morsa_ could finish the pirate ship and come back the pirates on the galleon would certainly have finished them. What to do?

Movement to her left drew Alamimo's attention. It was Intepere fiddling with one of the cannon. What the devil was he doing? Alamimo fired two more shots at a pirate that had risen with his musket before she realized that the young spacer was traversing the gun into its service and repair position pointing the barrel across the deck toward the opposite rail and the pirates. He couldn't be that stupid, could he? As it turned out, he could. Intepere hauled down on the priming lever to chamber a ball from the ready rack. The cannon whined as it charged the firing chamber. Suddenly the musket fire from the pirates dropped to nothing. Every one of them stared in disbelief for just an instant and then they scattered. Too late. Intepere yanked the firing laniard and sent a glowing blue ball of energy careering across into the center of the pirates. It seared the deck black as it passed inches above the metal plating, smashing whatever was in its way, casting shards and slivers of debris everywhere and shooting with a cacophonous report through the rail into the ether beyond. The cannon did little less damage to the ship as it was hurled through the gun port it was normally trained through. The main part of the gun tore free from its mounting shattering the frame and sending loose balls rolling everywhere. Alamimo dove out of the path of one just in time.

* * *

><p>Fidda was shouting orders in rapid succession sending her crew flying up the rigging and to their battle stations. She hadn't wanted to leave Alamimo and the boarding party behind but there had been no time to recall them. Regretfully, Fidda had had to think of the ship first.<p>

"Haul your wind you manx-headed deck apes! Keep them cannon firing! Look sharp now! There's a battle to fight!" she cried over the din. "Helm, bring us alongside at pistol shot! I want to finish them quick!"

Just as the helmsman began to change the course the ether lit up with a flare of blue light. Fidda shielded her eyes trying to see what had happened. As she stared another salvo crashed out of the darkness off the larboard side of the enemy vessel. In the flash she was able to make out the lines of some kind of ship. It was black with black sails. The _Witch_!

* * *

><p>A thunderous explosion slammed into the port side of the <em>Wake Herald<em> sending Captain Cohl, half the crew and anything not tied down tumbling across the deck. Instantly the ship's drive coughed and died. Rigging and topmen fell to the deck. Guns were unseated. Men were dying. Cohl's ship drifted in a tumble that threatened to toss him over the rail. Somehow the helmsman fought her into a stable course and Captain Cohl rose from the deck. Wildly he scanned the ether for his enemy. His eyes passed right over her at first. Black sails, black hull and no lights save those of the glowing cannon muzzles. As he watched they flared again slamming another broadside into his ship.

* * *

><p>"Larry, boarding party, make ready!" Jack shouted over the din of the guns. He hadn't expected to get this close so quickly. They'd cut the power to the drive once the <em>Witch of Mirzam<em> had reached her top speed letting her momentum carry her the remainder of the distance. Lh'aer'ri had seen what Jack was about just in time to engage the maneuvering thrusters to slow and turn her for the broadside. The _Witch_ now lay half a cable length off from the pirates after sending a second broadside into them. The enemy was a drifting wreck with spars and cannon knocked loose floating in a cloud of debris around her.

Lh'aer'ri chivied his spacers into their positions at the rail as Jack steered a course that would lay the _Witch_ alongside the pirate's ship at pistol shot distance. As the hulls lined up Lh'aer'ri and his men ran and leaped over the rail instantly losing the drag of gravity. They glided through the ether as free as birds until the gravity field of the pirate ship dragged them down to her deck. Lh'aer'ri landed poorly on his artificial leg but he was up in an instant with his sabre drawn.

* * *

><p>As insane as Intepere's gambit had been it seemed to have done the trick. Bleeding or dead pirates lay sprawled across the galleon's deck with no fight left in them. The heat and radiation from the passing ball had sapped their courage dry. Those that could sluggishly got to their feet and stood too stunned by the massive shot to do anything more. Alamimo rose up cautiously motioning her men to do the same. They advanced on their enemy and began taking prisoners.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Morsa<em> was at full sail and bearing down on the pirate vessel even as Lh'aer'ri and his men landed on its deck. Fidda knew all to well that one boarding party was not enough men to subdue such a ship if the crew were determined to sell their lives dearly. In the Expanse a fight to the death was often preferable to capture. She snapped quick orders to her bosun to make ready to board while the helmsman guided _Morsa_ to the pirate's starboard rail.

* * *

><p>Lh'aer'ri ducked under the glowing point of a boarding pike and lashed out with his curved blade to slice open his attacker. The pirate spun away screaming. Another swung a piece of spar at the Basheevee but his aim was bad and did nothing but stir the air. Lh'aer'ri shot him point blank. A spacer from the <em>Witch<em> clubbed down another pirate to his left and yet another spacer was forcing his way through the stunned enemy toward the quarterdeck. Lh'aer'ri fired into a group of pirates ahead of him then stumped after the spacer with the intent to kill or capture the pirate captain. All about them screams and war shouts rang through the air accompanied by the marshal sounds of clashing blades and firing pistols. The spacer ahead of him fell to the blow of a boarding axe and Lh'aer'ri came face to face with its wielder. He didn't hesitate. As the pirate raised the weapon above his head to strike, Lh'aer'ri lashed out with his powerful tentacles to dragged the man off his feet before hacking him as he passed. More spacers were following their first officer as he cut a swath of destruction through the dazed pirates. Some fell wounded or dead but they fought to the quarterdeck before the enemy captain could regain control of his crew.

The captain was a lean, hard bitten Molodurra with a brace of pistols shoved through his sash. In his hand was a long, straight bladed Abrogastian rapier. He lunged at Lh'aer'ri as soon as he saw him. The lieutenant turned the attack aside with the barrel of his pistol and slashed at the pirate only to have his blade ring off one of the man's buckles. The Molodurra stepped back avoiding the back stroke of the sabre. He kicked at Lh'aer'ri to no effect. It would take more than a kick to deter a Basheevee in a fight. Lh'aer'ri hacked with his blade again driving the pirate further back and then he whipped his tentacles in trying to hook the man's legs. The pirate danced out of reach and came up with a pistol but Lh'aer'ri was to quick. Moving with boneless grace the Basheevee dodged sideways spinning on his artificial leg to bring his tentacles crashing into the pistol arm and his good leg slamming into the pirate's chest. The Molodurra landed hard on the deck losing his sword when his head bounced off the metal plating. Lh'aer'ri was on him in an instant, sabre at the pirate's throat.

There came the resounding report of a score of muskets firing followed by as many spacers from the _Morsa_ landing on the pirate deck. They clambered over the fallen enemy and the detritus of battle to hack and stab and claw at the pirates who still resisted. Howls of rage rang out from the privateers thirsting for revenge for the loss of their friends and former ships. No mercy was given as they stormed the enemy deck.

"You are taken, sir!" Lh'aer'ri shouted at the pirate captain. "Strike your colors or I will."

Captain Cohl glared up at his captor. He was brave and ruthless but this was a hopeless situation. He'd been out foxed and it was bitter gall in his throat. His men were dying needlessly, though, and he owed them better than that. Cohl gave a kurt nod and Lh'aer'ri let him rise.

* * *

><p>"Aye, sir, she'll sail," Mr. Grugh told Jack after he had a chance to go over the drive and systems of the galleon. "She's in bad shape but she can make it back to Situla. She'll need to be babied all of the way there but she'll make it. The <em>Wake<em> _Herald_ will be ready to sail in a bit. Her linkages were shorted out but nothing too dramatic, sir. She should be fine."

"Thank you, Mr. Grugh. Well done," Jack said dismissing his bosun with a nod. He turned to Fidda casting a sly smile on her. "Told you it would work."

"I never had any doubt," she replied with an ironic tone. "We lost three men and you lost two. There are a dozen wounded all tolled. Your surgeon seems far too pleased to have his hands full, by the way. I saw him on your deck with a pistol in his hand during the action."

"A game cock is our Dr. Meriwether," Jack said happily. "Prisoners locked away in the galleon?"

"And in chains," Fidda confirmed. "That captain isn't pleased. Won't say a word but the looks he gives you whenever he sees you tell me that you should just kill him outright."

"Man's lost his ship and his freedom, lass," Jack said glancing at their new acquisition. "He has reason to hate me. Amelia wouldn't be pleased if I just hanged him and I'm not the sort to string a man up just because he hates me. Besides, our commodore will want to speak to him."

"I think she'll want to do that very much, Jack," Fidda said in a tone that drew his attention back to her. "He's in the wrong territory."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter XIV**

"Wrong territory?" Jack asked in a musing fashion. He turned back to Fidda with narrowed eyes. "Out of his home waters, is he?"

"In a manner of speaking, yeah," Fidda confirmed. "He was flyin' the colors of Odion the Twin. Some call 'im Odion Kin Slayer. Our fella shouldn't have been within at least a parsec of this system."

"Odion the Twin?" Jack asked still musing.

"The Boss of the Benin Straights," Fidda explained. "Smallest territory in the Expanse. Called the Twin 'cause he killed 'is twin brother to inherit 'is territory alone." Jack grimaced at this information. Fidda went on, "This is the Wahrg Rim Confederacy. Stone Fist McGruder rules it. He's not one to be crossed and would skin our prisoners alive if he caught 'em out here."

"So why, I must ask, did our good captain put himself in such a dangerous position?" Jack continued to muse. "Couldn't have been blown off course so far. From what I know of these navigational devices of yours, he would have known where he was, pretty well."

"Even if 'is charts were out of date," agreed Fidda. "What do you make of it, Jack?"

"He might have been cocking a snook, as they say, but seems too much a risk. Something's afoot, Fidda." Jack turned to look out at the ether with all of its winking stars. "Amelia should be able to get it out of him, lass. We'll need to keep a weather eye out. See if anything else comes up in this vein. Might be nothing to do with us."

"Or it might," Fidda murmured. She was thinking along similar lines to Jack but also wondering what, if anything, it might have to do with her father.

"If you think of anything, let me know," Jack said low enough that only she would hear him.

Fidda glanced around warily, it wouldn't do to give the crew anything more to worry about, then gave Jack a nod before heading for her longboat. Both captains were unsettled by this development.

* * *

><p>The <em>Witch, <em>as it turned out, had come through the battle completely unscathed. She had pounced on the _Wake Herald_ before the pirate crew had even known she was there. They'd never gotten a shot off. _Morsa_ was virtually undamaged also. A few stray musket shots from the pirates aboard the old galleon had scored her masts and rigging but nothing more severe. After the brief ceremony of sending the dead off into the nearest star's gravity well with due respect Jack, affecting a self satisfied mood of good cheer, left Lh'aer'ri to resume their course and deal with any little troubles that might arise. There was something aside from the news about the pirates in the wrong territory that was occupying Jack's mind for the moment and he wanted to see to it before anything else interrupted him.

Once in his cabin Jack drew out three small wooden bowls from his cupboard. Placing them upon his small table he had just turned back to the cupboard when a knock came at his door. Frowning and slightly crest fallen Jack stepped to it and opened it a crack. As he had expected it was the tall, slim Osier standing quite like a specter of ill omen in the companionway. Grudgingly, Jack opened the door to admit the dark clad figure. He closed the door softly behind him.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening my good gargoyle?" Jack asked gesturing to one of the chairs.

Osier scowled mildly at Jack but sat with the innate grace of a predator. His movements were a study in languidly precise economy. For his part Jack slumped carelessly as he always did. He knew this game well, having played it from both sides many, many times over the years. His father had taught him to never run from a dog or any other predator. Such would only bring on the attack. Jack used his fingernail to pick an imaginary something from between his golden teeth then bestowed a grin on his unwelcome visiter.

"Why did you engage those ships?" Osier asked finally.

"There should be a 'captain' in there somewhere," Jack said mildly.

"Why did you engage those ships, _Captain_?" Osier said after a short silence. It was easier to deal with this insufferable human if he gave in to this particular idiosyncrasy.

"I didn't," replied Jack dismissively.

Osier narrowed his venom-dark eyes at Jack. The man could not seriously be trying to deny the battle had happened, could he?

"I engaged one ship," Jack explained when Osier did not rise to the bait.

Resignedly Osier asked, "Why did you engage the pirates, Captain?"

"Bit of profit. Good test to see how the men would act in battle. Good to know how the ship would act, too." Jack gave Osier a wolf's grin. "Might have gotten _someone_ killed."

That took Osier by surprise. He was sure Sparrow meant the first officer. For only an instant his stoic calm faltered and his eyes widened. He mastered himself almost as quickly but Jack had not missed the reaction.

"You know where we are sailing from here?" Jack asked casually.

"Port Cerberus, Captain." The title came more easily to Osier's lips this time.

"I won't be taking any of you with me." Jack leaned forward in his seat a bit. "One of you needs to shadow us. Watch me back, as it were. No good trusting anyone in that port. I don't want any of the crew knowing one of you is shadowing me either. I expect I'll be gone for no more than two watches. That should be easy enough to work out for the three of you."

"Aye, Sir," Osier nodded. "I'll see to it."

Jack gave him a firm nod then stood and gestured to the door. He closed it behind the dark figure of Cobarde's man before turning back to what he had been doing before he'd been interrupted. The three bowls were already sitting on the table so he went to the cupboard and drew three bottles out. He filled one bowl with purp juice. It smelled sweet and savory. The next bowl he filled with a pale green milk that Broad Foot seemed fond of. The third he poured full of a harsh tasting wine Grugh had given him. The next step in his plan was a little more intricate. With a good cloth he dipped a sappy substance Dr. Meriwether preferred for polishing his shoes from a small tin. It was slick and rolled smoothly onto the surface of the table. Jack coated the whole top in an even sheen then placed the bowls in the center. His trap set, Jack departed the cabin for a tour of the ship.

* * *

><p>"Brraadtt," Broad Foot said as he ran a stone over the edge of one of his arrow points. They were sitting in the tween decks of the <em>Witch<em> since Brraadtt was not on watch. Brraadtt had disassembled his pistol and was cleaning each part maticulously. "Why did Knot Hair attack that sky shell?"

"Pirates," Brraadtt said in the trade language since Broad Foot's own tongue did not have a word for pirate. It didn't have a word for ship or boat either but the old Clevari knew what the Raposa meant by 'sky shell'.

Broad Foot chirped a reply that could have meant what, how or when. On Earth someone would have said, "Huh?"

"Like the bad people we fought on your home," Brraadtt explained in the Raposan tongue.

"Why did we come here?" Broad Foot wanted to know.

"We look for Blue Frown's father," Brraadtt explained. Blue Frown was what Broad Foot called Fidda.

"Not what I ask," Broad Foot said with a shake of his head. "You. Me. Why did we come here?"

Brraadtt considered for a long moment before answering, "Keep Knot Hair out of trouble."

Broad Foot blinked owlishly at his friend. He scratched behind one ear with his foot then chittered in the way Brraadtt knew was the Raposa version of a derisive snort. Brraadtt gave him a puzzled look.

"No can do," Broad Foot said flatly then went back to sharpening his arrows.

* * *

><p>Jack had taken a turn around the ship in a general inspection sort of attitude. The men had all been properly deferential to him, knuckling their brows when he passed if their hands were free to do so. Mostly he found their deference pleasing but part of him felt uncomfortable with it. He liked having respect but this seemed somehow forced. Granted, these men had volunteered to join his crew but they were now constrained by their contracts to serve and obey. If the crew didn't like their officers they weren't able to do anything about it unless they wanted to mutiny. Jack didn't like mutiny but understood it. There was such a thing as just cause. Barbossa had not had just cause when he had led the mutiny on the <em>Pearl<em>. These thoughts darkened Jack's mood considerably. He paused scratching his chin in thought remembering that fateful night and the island. One pistol. One shot. One sworn oath of vengeance. A lot of rum and then the meeting with Amelia. Three months and a bit. Had it really been so short a time? It felt like a lifetime ago. Almost as if it had been a dream. Not wanting to cause rumor among the crew Jack made his way quickly back to his cabin to see if anything had come of his trap.

As soon as he stepped through the door it was clear his trap had worked. The three bowls were gone from the little table. They now sat neatly stacked to dry next to his small sink. He had expected that, if nothing else. For the moment he ignored them and went directly to the table. Jack bent at the waist peering intently at the polished surface. He had to inspect it very carefully looking at it from several angles before discovering what he'd hoped to. Footprints, very faint, marred the polish. There were other faint marks as well. He couldn't be sure but they might have been made by feathers. They might also have been made by a cloth run over the surface but that seemed unlikely. Jack moved to look at the smears from a new angle and noticed in one spot that the surface had certainly been buffed with something. Where the bowls had sat there were only two rings in the polish. The third, the middle one, had been wiped away and a smear in the polish to one side indicated that a larger area had been wiped, too. The middle bowl had contained the milk. Jack straightened up and smiled to himself. He was right. And now he had bait.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Kaholo," said the strong, feminine voice of Lieutenant Alamimo.<p>

Intepere turned from swabbing down the deck straightening when he faced the very attractive Pajakian officer. He was uncertain what might have prompted her to speak to him. The lieutenant had mostly avoided Intepere since the incident with Kreed in the companionway.

"You did well during the boarding action," Alamimo said a bit stiffly. Her eyes traveled up and down his uniform before she went on, "And you have begun to shape up into a proper spacer. I have entered your name in my log and will note your actions in my report. It is little enough for saving the other members of the party and myself but I thought you would like to know."

"Um... Thank you, ma'am," the young Heliwr replied earnestly. "Very kind of you, Lieutenant."

Alamimo cleared her throat and sniffed uncomfortably. "Yes. Well, keep up the good work. You... uhm... may return to your duties."

Intepere knuckled his brow, Alamimo gave curt nod and each turned away. As Alamimo strode aft she glanced seraptisiously over her shoulder as though glancing to be sure the spacers had returned to their work. She was slightly embarrassed to see Intepere still looking at her and she quickly found something else to occupy her attention. Even so a little smile crept across her face and her step was just ever the slightest bit lighter.

Intepere had been surprised that the young lieutenant had spoken so civilly to him and had not realized he'd watched her retreat until she had looked back. He felt himself flush with heat as her eyes for the briefest moment were on him again and before she had turned her attention elsewhere he had already spun back to his work wide eyed and confused.

"Careful, lad," Kreed growled in an amused way. "She's an officer. A fine lookin' las fer all that but an officer first, eh? Don't reach above yer station."

Intepere blinked at the older privateer. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Do ye not?" Kreed chuckled swiping his mop back over the deck to buff out a scorch mark left by one of the pirate's muskets. "Ye caught 'er eye, lad. As I hear it, ye'r quite the hero fer save the boarders. That'll turn any girl's head, even one like 'er. But she's an officer first and it won't matter when orders is given. Discipline, boy. That's what makes a ship run. And if ye think she'll ferget that ye'r mistaken. Keep it reigned in is all I'm sayin'. This war won't last ferever."

"You mean she..." Intepere stuttered to a stop staring at the old spacer.

"Aye, lad," Kreed smiled bemusedly. "Ye d'n't know? Lad, women is women. And ye'r young, the both of ye. Time enough fer patty-fingers later. Here now, get back to swabin' afore the bosun see ye."

"But she..." In spite of himself Intepere glanced back over his shoulder at Alamimo. "The first time she talked to me she chewed me out. And the way she spoke to us in the companionway... I thought..."

"Swab, boy. Don't think." Kreed laughed at the boy as they continued cleaning the deck. It amused him all the more when the young Heliwr tripped over his own mop because he'd turned yet again to look at the lieutenant.

* * *

><p>"You should take greater care of this thing," Dr. Meriwether said adjusting a strap on Lieutenant Lh'aer'ri's prosthetic leg. "It's a good model but landing on it the way you did is really pushing its limits."<p>

"I didna' try to break it, Doctor," Lh'aer'ri replied a little stiffly. The doctor had been good enough to come to the quarterdeck to tend him so that he wouldn't need to leave his post. "And the bloody thing makes ma stump itch."

"Itch?" asked the doctor. "Itching is a good sign, Lieutenant. Means the tissue is growing back. I thought this wound just occurred."

"Aye, less than a month ago, I think."

"And what of your arms?"

"Oh, they've been coming along nicely, sir," Lh'aer'ri flexed his right arm stump to demonstrate the amount of movement he'd regained. "See? Growing, too. I've had to let ma sleeves out twice since the awards ceremony."

"Hhmmph," Meriwether said making a final adjustment to the straps on Lh'aer'ri's stump. "Interesting. Well, Lieutenant, that should do you for the time being. Please be careful with thing. We can fix it or replace it but if it were to give out on you in the middle of a fight it could be fatal."

"I'll try, Doctor," Lh'aer'ri assured him.

"While I'm here, Lieutenant," Meriwether said softly as if he didn't want to be over heard. "What do you think of our captain? I hear he's a savage from an undeveloped world. Any truth to that?"

Lh'aer'ri frowned down at the portly man with disapproval.

"I mean no offense, Lieutenant," Meriwether said raising placating hands. "It's just in my position I hear things from the crew, you understand. I'm just curious. That's all."

"The captain is a good a man," Lh'aer'ri said firmly. "I've seen him in action more than once and he saved the lives of the Commodore's children and the Commodore herself. More than that, he's lucky."

"Lucky, eh?" Meriwether nodded sagely rubbing his chin. "Good qualities. But what of the rumors?"

"They're true, Doctor." Lh'aer'ri nodded curtly. "I wouldna' go so far as to call him a savage, though. In his own way Captain Sparrow is quite courtly. Very civilized compared to many men I've served with. As I said, he's a good man and I'll not stand for anyone to slight him."

"Nor should you," Meriwether agreed. He looked up into the big Basheevee's earnestly. "And nor shall I, Lieutenant. I'll see to it the rumors stop."

"Thank you, Doctor," Lh'aer'ri said sincerely. They shook hand and tentacle in agreement before the doctor turned away to tend to his duties while Lh'aer'ri tended to his own.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter XV**

"You pay five duckettes," the dock master commanded. Jack was having flashbacks to his last visit to Port Cerberus. It had not been so very long ago and yet it seemed ages since he had first stepped upon this dock. It was, indeed, the very slip to which he and Closton had tied Amelia's launch when she had brought him and Anamaria from Earth. The dock master was the same short, wide creature with his eyes on stalks that extended several inches above his head, not so very shocking now that Jack had met many far stranger looking creatures.

"Do you own this fine dock upon which I have the pleasure and honor to stand, my good man?" Jack asked casually his golden teeth glinting in the light of the nearest star as he reached into his pocket.

The dock master frowned and narrowed his eyes. "Own?"

"It is a remarkable dock and a man of your bearing and stature seems well suited to owning such a wonder of engineering and craftsmanship," Jack went on while striking a conspiratorial pose.

"I no own this dock," said the creature a little less harshly. He had worked the docks for a long, long time and knew a scoundrel and a rogue when he saw one. Before him stood an almost textbook example of the breed.

"Ah! So will I be signing me ship into a registry book, then?" Jack asked drawing three shiny duckets from his pocket. The blue discs caught the light from the nearby star and glinted more brightly than Jack's teeth.

"No register," the dock master said even less harshly.

"Then what say I pay you three duckets and we keep this just between ourselves, mate?" Jack stepped closer to him and held the duckets pinched between forefinger and thumb. "I'll only be here two watches at the most. Plenty of time for me and enough left in the day for another ship to moor and pay for the slip. No harm in a little profit, is there, mate?"

The dock master's eyes swiveled around checking to see if anyone were looking before he reached out and took the coins.

"Three duckets. Two watches." The dock master stuffed the coins in his pocket. "If you are longer, you pay five more."

"No worries, mate," Jack tipped his hat to the creature then waved for Brraadtt and Grugh to follow him.

They had sailed the _Witch_ in having left the _Morsa_ in what Fidda called a high orbit. She was to wait there for Jack to return. His intention was to establish the _Witch_ as a pirate vessel from the Imperial side of the demilitarized zone. This sojourn into the port was more of a reconnaissance than it was an actual probe for information. Jack intended to be here only long enough to make it clear he was looking for someone or something. His bribing of the dock master was to ensure word would spread that he and the _Witch_ were not honest. In many ports that would be a black mark against a captain and crew but here it would help them to blend in. Port Cerberus was a hub of wicked intrigue and unlawful commerce. Well, it would have been if it had been located in any decent part of the galaxy. In the Expanse it passed as a minor outpost of the Council of Bosses who ran things here. Jack knew little of the rules and customs in the Expanse but he was sure that Port Cerberus served as something of a meeting place where members of the different clans and organizations could meet on neutral ground. If they took him for what he hoped they would Jack might just be able to get what he was after.

Jack and Grugh spent their time going through the stalls and markets of the port. Grugh was there to examine what sorts of things were for sale and where those things had come from. Jack listened for any word that might lead them towards Silver's whereabouts. Brraadtt had split off from them as soon as they had crossed from the docks to the commercial district. Being familiar with Port Cerberus Brraadtt knew where the best rumors were to be had and knew more about getting them than anyone except Amelia and Jack could possibly guess. All through the first half of their visit sounds of fighting provided a backdrop to the more normal sounds of markets and the life of any sizable metropolis. Grugh frowned at the slave markets until Jack elbowed him in the ribs to remind the bosun they were supposed to blend in.

"Fancy a drink, Mr. Grugh?" Jack asked unexpectedly. His eyes had drifted to a far corner of the narrow market lane they had wandered into.

"A drink, Sir?" Grugh began. Jack cut him off by turning quickly and striding across the pavement toward an alley. Grugh followed bemusedly. "What's up, Captain?"

"Just follow me and do not look back," Jack told him in a low, clipped voice.

Instinctively Grugh reached for his pistol and glanced over his shoulder.

"I said DON'T look back," Jack growled at him fiercely.

Grugh snapped back around following closely on his captain's heels. They came out of the far end of the alley and turned a sharp left going down the street a few houses before crossing to the far side. Jack found a cozy doorway to duck into where they stood on opposite sides a few minutes. For all the world Jack looked as if he were having a rather boring day with nothing unusual occurring as he casually looked back the way they had come. He drew a small corn knife from his pocket and began cleaning his nails as they stood in the shade of the doorway.

"Someone was following us, Captain?" Grugh finally asked when he could take it no longer.

"Aye," confirmed Jack.

"And ye think we gave 'em the slip, Sir?"

"I hope not." Jack's smile was a cunning, mischievous thing. His dark eyes twinkled under their half closed lids.

"Ye want whoever it is to catch us, then, Sir?" Grugh asked trying to puzzle his way through the logic.

"I do not," Jack said and flashed his bosun an enigmatic smile.

"Then why is it that ye hope we didn't shake 'em off, Sir?"

"Because I know something you do not, Mr. Grugh." Jack began cleaning the nails of his other hand. "In a moment I shall know something else you will not know and then we shall take one more turn through the market before continuing on to The Bastard OOck wherein we shall rendezvous with Mr. Brraadtt and have a drink or three. I will tell some lies and you will ask questions as they occur to you. Don't expect truthful answers, Mr. Grugh. I'll be wanting people to overhear us. Savvy?"

"Ummm... Aye, Sir?" Grugh was more than ever confused by the mercurial lines of thought his captain seemed to thrive on. If there was one thing Captain Sparrow was good at it was being truthfully untruthful. Grugh's wits were simply not able to keep pace with the human. He wondered if anyone's were. Instead of wasting effort worrying about such things Grugh leaned back against the cool wall and let time slip away until Jack again nudged him.

"Is it that ye know the something else now, Sir?" Grugh asked straightening. He blinked the drowse from his eyes.

"I know two something elses now, Mr. Grugh." Jack swallowed as if his stomach were unsettled. "One of them is... a little disturbing, actually. Come on. Time to go. It's getting late."

* * *

><p>The Bastard OOck had not changed in the least since Jack had crossed its threshold last. Even in the middle of the day it was a busy place with pistol shots going every so often. He and Grugh were treated to the sight of a particularly violent fight in the middle of the floor with most of the patrons making bets and howling encouragement to their favored combatant. Jack and Grugh skirted the edge of the crowd keeping their hands on their money bags and an eye on their surroundings. The tables in the back were full so they had to settle in near the middle of the tavern. Jack chose a seat with his back to a large post where he could look into a cracked mirror hung across the room.<p>

"It ain't safe here, Sir," grumbled Mr. Grugh. "Does Mr. Brraadtt know where this place is?"

"He does," Jack informed his bosun. "I met him for the first time in this place. Put a pistol to me head, he did. Learned not to do that when I hit him."

Grugh's jaw dropped. "You hit him?" he said. "He's Clevari. You don't hit a Clevari, Sir."

"Depends on where you hit them," Jack replied nonchalantly.

Just then Mr. Brraadtt sidled up to the table and sat down without invitation. There were tears in his jacket and scuff marks on his face. He'd been in a fight.

"Mr. Brraadtt," Jack said observing the condition of the old spacer. "You are disheveled. Is everything alright?"

"Brraadtt thirsty, Captain," the Clevari responded. "Need drink."

After Grugh had whistled up a barmaid and gotten three tankards of the OOck's finest they settled down. The stuff stank. Jack let his tankard sit, not even touching it. After the first sip Grugh nearly wretched but Brraadtt drained his in one long gulp. He belched happily with his expression falling into the one Jack knew to be his equivalent of a smile. Jack raised an eyebrow. Could Brraadtt actually like the stuff? He slid his own drink in front of the Clevari and watched in wonder as Brraadtt repeated the performance. Mr. Grugh leaned down to his and sniffed. Yes. It was still awful. He slid it in front of Brraadtt who took it up but did not drain it this time. He only sipped.

"Did you learn anything, Mr. Brraadtt?" asked Jack.

"Some," Brraadtt said easing back in his seat. "Lots of talk. Lots of people scared. Many ships go. No come back. Bosses at war."

"Bosses?" Jack asked. "Bosses at war?"

"Big Council meeting coming." Brraadtt sipped from his tankard again. "All spacers worried."

"Big meeting when?" Jack asked.

"No know, Captain," said Brraadtt. "Brraadtt no hear. Brraadtt ask. Brraadtt get into fight."

"Brraadtt get into fight?" Jack frowned. "Brraadtt fight who?"

"No know. Spacer. Pirate. No like Brraadtt. Say Brraadtt daft. Brraadtt knock down. Stomp on spacer's head. Brraadtt fight more spacers. Brraadtt knock down. Spacers run." Brraadtt rolled an eye at Jack. "What mean daft, Captain?"

"Not important. Brraadtt learn whereabouts of Silver?" Jack asked suddenly realizing he was speaking like a Clevari. He stopped himself with a blink and a frown. "Did you hear anything that might lead us to the bounty?"

Mr. Grugh noted that his captain said the last word a little louder than needed. It wasn't as if he were trying to call attention to himself. It was subtler than that. Jack had said it as though he were trying to get Brraadtt's attention.

"Only hear Silver gone, Captain," Brraadtt said taking another drink. "Silver do something. Make Boss angry. Boss take Silver."

"Which Boss?" Jack asked in the same tone he'd used before.

Brraadtt frowned in concentration. He burbled something then said, "Can't say name, Captain. Boss of Straights. Boss no like Silver."

"Captain," Mr. Grugh began but stopped when Jack shot him a warning look.

"So we're too late to collect the bounty," Jack said loud enough for the people at the nearby tables to overhear if they were listening. He made a theatrical gesture of frustration no one could misinterpret then slammed himself back into his seat rather childishly.

"Sounds like, Sir," said Grugh uncertain of his captain's intention. "Don't want to go after the prize all on our own, Sir."

"Back to the ship, gentlemen." Jack stood with a scowl and was making for the door before the spacers had a chance even to rise.

* * *

><p>"You no go, you pay five more duckettes," demanded the dock master. Jack stood before him in an apparent state of annoyance.<p>

"My friend, I have a man missing," Jack said trying to sound reasonable. He was using his most winning smile, the one that told people he was being conciliatory and cooperative. Couldn't they see that?

"He jump ship. Pay five duckettes," the dock master insisted completely unimpressed with Jack's smile or anything else about him.

"Did you see him jump ship?" Jack demanded losing the smile.

"No. Pay or go. I have dock to run."

Jack cast a glance down to the end of said dock. No sign of his missing crewman. He looked back over his shoulder at Osier with a frustrated scowl. Finally he shook his head and stalked back to his gangplank and up onto the deck. He stopped by the tall, lean, darkly clad spacer and growled quietly, "Where is he?"

Osier blinked at him. "I don't know, Sir."

"He's your responsibility. I won't answer to Cobarde for this." Jack's voice had lost all of the charm and playfulness it usually carried. His dark eyes were filled with wrath. "I'm leaving him."

"But, Sir," Osier began to protest.

"We'll be back at some point. We can pick him up then if he's still here." Jack turned sharply away from the spacer and began issuing orders to cast off lines.

Osier narrowed his eyes on his captain's back, suspicion glinting in them. He could not stand there at the moment. He had duties to perform until they were underway. Later he would have to puzzle out what had happened to Fonyn. It had been a simple matter to slip him over the side to the dock. They had been sure no one was watching and Captain Sparrow had been quite clear about his wish to have a man watching his back while he was away. Sparrow was no fool. He clearly had known how dangerous Port Cerberus was and yet Osier felt something was wrong. He still didn't trust Sparrow. Fonyn had been the logical choice. In part it was because he was least likely of the three to be missed during the watches Sparrow had been ashore. More importantly to Osier was the simple fact Fonyn was both brighter than Bugio and more expendable than Osier himself. Sparrow had never acted openly against any of them. He had made a point of ignoring them completely after the rest of the crew had been assigned. It had helped the three to blend into the background. His sudden flash of temper at the loss of the man looked genuine but was it? Osier would have to consider carefully what next to do.

* * *

><p>"If Odion has me da, I'm going to get him!" Fidda fairly shouted. Jack had called Fidda to the <em>Witch<em> and in his cabin told her what they had learned. He had been trying to reason with her but she had lost her perspective. Her only desire was to get her father out of whatever mess he was in.

"How?" Jack asked, not unreasonably. "We don't know where he is, Fidda. We don't know how well guarded he is. We don't even have a map of the Straights."

"I do," Fidda snapped.

"A current one?" Jack asked keeping his voice even but strong. It would do him no good to let his temper rise. "There's a war on now, lass. The Bosses are fighting each other and we don't yet know who is involved, aside from this Odion fellow and McGruder. Could be more. Looks like the whole region is in a mess. We can't go off without better information."

"I thought you were brave," Fidda spat. "Jack Sparrow, Hero of Muliphein. Ha!"

Jack rose from his seat glaring at her. He leaned across the little table right into her face with a scowl that would wither the love of God.

"Brave I am, lass, but not a fool." Jack's voice was low, filled with menace. Fidda shrank back in spite of her own temper. She realized she had just crossed a line. Jack Sparrow was not a soft merchant or a stiff Fleet officer. He was a pirate and in his own culture a Pirate Lord. One did not rise to such a position by being weak. He went on, "We are going back to Situla. We will find out what Amelia knows and then plan a course of action. Do I need to make myself any more clear?"

Fidda blinked harsh tears from her eyes. Frustrated she stood and stalked out of the cabin.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter XVI**

True to his nature, Jack set a circuitous course leading further into the Expanse and away from his ultimate goal of Situla. He explained to Lh'aer'ri his intention of snapping up a few more prizes and gathering information on what was going on in the Expanse while throwing off any spies who might be dogging their trail. His crew was pleased with the prospects of more prize money but Fidda was clearly champing at the bit to get back to the Fleet base so they could move forward with the rescue of her father.

On the fourth day out of Port Cerberus Alamimo found her captain on the quarterdeck of the _Morsa_ staring into the void of the Etherium.

"Captain?" Alamimo said deferentially standing outside the captain's personal domain. "Something is troubling you, Ma'am."

Fidda glanced with some little irritation over her shoulder and grunted. She was still not used to being addressed as Ma'am and still felt uncomfortable around her first officer.

"Is it Captain Sparrow?" Alamimo asked.

"Captain bloody Sparrow?" Fidda snarled quietly. "Yes. Or maybe no."

"Is it that he is taking this long course to get us home?" Alamimo continued.

For a minute Fidda didn't speak. Alamimo was about to leave her to her brooding but was stopped before she turned away when Fidda faced her.

"Between you and me, Lieutenant, I'm angry because he was right," Fidda grumbled. She had to admit it even if the realization galled her. "I'm angry because me da is in the hands of someone and I can't go and get 'im. Da's been in trouble afore now but he was always able to get out of it on 'is own. He got me out of more than one scrape and now I can't do the same for 'im."

Alamimo was a little surprised to see tears in Fidda's eyes. They would not fall but they were there, nonetheless.

"It seems to me, Captain, that you are already doing much," Alamimo said levelly. Fidda's eyes snapped up, looking her first office in the face for the first time. "You were able to enlist the aid of Commodore Amelia and of Captain Sparrow. No small feat of itself. And you now have recruited a crew of competent spacers willing to sail under your command for their own reasons. In a very short time you've caused the forces of the Galactic Empire to stand with you in common cause. And all this was done for your father, Captain."

Fidda blinked at Alamimo as her words sank in. Though the Empire had its own reasons for fighting the pirates of the Expanse it was true that it had allied with her. Amelia was a noted hero of the Empire decorated with one of its highest honors and commissioned by the Empress herself. Fidda had her own decoration for the Battle of Muliphein and a full pardon for any past indiscretions. Even now she had letters of marque resting in her pocket with the Imperial seal pressed on them. Alamimo was right.

Fidda's shoulders straightened a little and her chin came up. The tears in her eyes vanished as she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Alamimo was right. Fidda gave her a slight smile.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Fidda said with genuine warmth. "Would you like to join me for dinner this evening?"

"Of... of course, Captain," said Alamimo a little startled. Fidda had never invited her to her cabin much less to a meal. "I would be honored."

Jack's course led them in an arc away from Port Cerberus before it turned back toward Situla. They encountered a few nice prizes en route. Rather than send them straight back to Situla on a course that would place the comparatively small prize crews in danger, Jack chose to keep them under the protective guns of the _Witch_ and the _Morsa_. The two ships sailed into the much repaired docks of the Fleet spaceport with three fine sloops, a galley and a small brig that had put up an impressive chase. It had been no small affair for Jack to maneuver the Witch to finally cut it off from escape but when he showed his colors the brig struck its sails and surrendered without a shot fired. Apparently they had been somewhat relieved to be taken by Imperial privateers. Some of her crew had even volunteered to serve the Empire in hopes of avoiding a long stay in a cell before execution. Jack had made no promises either way. At the docks he left Lh'aer'ri in charge of disposing of the prizes and their crews while with Fidda, who looked much friendlier than he would have expected, he went to call upon Commodore Amelia aboard the Smollette.

"So, really, all you came back with is that Silver is being held by one of the Bosses. That we already knew," Amelia said frowning. She was clearly disappointed and frustrated. In the time the _Morsa_ and the _Witch_ had been away she had dealt with numerous small crises and the petty disagreements of the various privateer captains. It seemed some bore grudges from years before the current war. The only bright spot had turned out to be one of the most disagreeable men Amelia had ever met. Captain Kwint was a taciturn, unctuous spacer of the lowest and most base kind. She was frequently offended by his near insubordination and his seeming delight in laughing up his sleeve at her orders. He always kept to the spirit of an order but rarely to the form of it. Still, he was her strongest supporter among the privateers and if it had not been for his understated, forceful nature the others might have thrown enough legal claims in her path to divert her from her goal.

"We know which territory da was taken to," Fidda protested.

"And we know at least two Bosses are at war," Jack added.

"No, Captain Silver," Amelia said heavily. "We know Odion the Twin is said to have taken your father. That isn't the same as knowing he actually has him. It could be a matter of someone taking advantage of the situation of the war between the Bosses to spirit him away."

Amelia sighed releasing some of the tension that had built up in her. She closed her eyes and reflected that being angry or even frustrated with her friends would not only serve no good purpose, it was unfair. She sighed again before opening her eyes. Jack was slumped back in his chair eating a green purp that Amelia had set on her windowsill to ripen. She bit her lip, again refraining from harsh words. There were five others lined up in the sunlight and one was showing a little more blush than the rest. Maybe another day and it would be ripe enough to eat. Briefly she considered warning Jack about the possible uncomfortable digestive effects that normally resulted from eating a purp before it was ripe but the tinny mischievous part of her over ruled any such warning. She smiled very slightly at the thought of what Jack had just let himself in for later. Her mind suddenly cleared of all the distracting problems she had been dealing with and leaped to an odd notion. Who could they go to for help? They had no spies in the Expanse to feed them information but they did have prisoners and one of those pirates had been fighting other pirates when he had been overtaken by Captain Svikari.

"You say the territory Silver was supposedly spirited off to is the Benin Straights?" she asked still musing.

"That's right," Fidda replied seeing Amelia's expression.

"Then I think we may have gotten more information than I feared." Amelia rose and pulled on her Fleet jacket and her hat. "Come with me, please. There is someone I want you to meet."

* * *

><p>The cell in which Jack found himself made his skin crawl. He wanted to be out of this place right now. For a change he was not incarcerated and that was something. The simple bars and the locked doors were enough to cause a feeling of claustrophobia in the freedom-loving rogue, though, and he had to work very hard to not show his discomfort. He chose the chair farthest from either door and slumped bonelessly into it cocking his hat forward as if he were going to take a nap. As relaxed as he appeared his senses were fully aware of all that went on about him. He felt Amelia give him a passing look before she settled herself on the bench behind the rough table. He knew Fidda was leaning pensively against the wall, perhaps feeling much as he did himself. After all, she was a child of the open ether.<p>

When the bolt on the door connecting this cell to the main holding block of the gaol clattered back Jack refused to let himself stir from his languid pose. It wouldn't do to let Amelia or even Fidda see how eager he was to get this interview over with and be gone from this place. Jack waited, alert for the right moment in which to interject a word or two that could turn the conversation in his favor.

Through the battered old door came a tall, broad shouldered, strikingly handsome figure. His height was exaggerated by tall ears that stood straight up from the sides of his narrow, long-snouted head. From under the rim of his hat Jack reflected that the creature standing surveying the room looked like nothing so much as one of the pagan statues he had seen in Egypt of the ancient jackal headed god Anubis right down to the dark blue-black of its skin. Granted, Anubis apparently preferred golden loin clothes to the dapper officer's uniform this being wore, stained and begrimed as it was.

"Please come in," Amelia said by way of greeting.

The creature gave her an assessing look before it took a purposeful step to the bench opposite hers. It glanced down at the seat then sat stiffly without a word.

"I understand you were among the prisoners taken during a raid by one of my captains," Amelia said matter-of-factly.

The creature's ears twitched. No more.

"It is within my power to commute your sentence of piracy," she went on. "It is also within my power to pronounce summary judgement."

Again the ears twitched. His eyes turned flat and drifted from Amelia to stare at the wall.

"I need some information," she explained. "For that I would be inclined to pardon you with certain provisions."

The eyes found their way back to Amelia. A very thin smile edged onto those canine features and the ears pricked forward ever the slightest bit.

"I'm glad that I have succeeded in getting your attention but this conversation would go so much better if you were to participate," she observed tartly. "My offer is genuine. I am Commodore Amelia commissioned by Her Imperial Majesty as Commodore of Privateers."

The creature's head flicked up with the first sign that his calm reserve had cracked. It was only a small movement but it betrayed him. Amelia let the silence stretch, intending for the spacer before her to make the next move. Instead, it was Jack who made the move.

"Hard being in the cells, eh mate?" Jack asked without changing his posture. "Not like being on the deck running before a storm. Worse even than when the ship is becalmed. Nothing to do. Nothing to look at 'cept the same four walls. And the only certain thing about it is a rope's end. That's no way for men like us to live."

The jackal-headed creature turned his narrowed eyes on Jack. His ears perked forward a little as he appraised the supine figure.

"Don't trust us, do you?" Jack went on. "Don't blame you, mate. I wouldn't. But what you have to consider is how bad could this be? Think of it. The commodore there is offering you a way out. What would it hurt to hear her questions? It's got to be better than sitting in a cage."

"What do you want, Commodore?" the prisoner asked, returning his attention to Amelia. His voice was rich and full with an exotic accent that did nothing but enhance the smoothness of his precise pronunciation.

"We need to know the whereabouts of a certain person," Amelia said. She was very pleased with Jack and was reconsidering whether or not she would warn him about the purp he had eaten earlier. "He was taken from his home by one of the Bosses more than two months ago. His name is Silver. He is the captain of the brig _Morsa_. Do you know him?"

"_Morsa_?" The prisoner considered a moment. "The ship that threw in with you against the Mhinm? I know of him."

"What do you know of him?" Amelia pressed.

"As you say, he was taken by one of the Bosses," the prisoner replied.

"Which Boss?" demanded Amelia.

"I do not know," the prisoner said calmly. "I might be able to find out."

"He's lying," Fidda hissed. The scowl on her pretty face was wrathful. She clearly would have liked to kick the creature's head in.

"Are you lying?" Amelia asked mildly.

"I have seen no advantage thus far. What do you offer?" He spread his hands palms up in a gesture that said as much as his words. "Perhaps you would outline what it is that I might win by helping you?"

"You won't hang," Amelia said bluntly. "At least not unless you commit some other crime worthy of such punishment."

The smile that split the prisoner's face was not amused. It was more in the nature of a rictus grin, strong and fiercely defiant. His words dripped with venomous scorn, "What crime have I committed against the Empire that I should be hanged for now? I was taken from my ship and handed over to your Captain Svikari who brought me here on false charges. But you, Commodore, will take the word of such an 'honorable' privateer over mine just because I am from the Expanse."

"Svikari said that your ship was engaged with another pirate vessel when he arrived," Amelia observed. "His report indicates that your drive was shot away. He says the other vessel made a run for it when he came within range of his guns. Your crew began firing on him. He returned fire and was able to subdue you after a brief exchange causing no damage or loss of life to his crew."

"Ha! Where are the other prisoners? Where is my ship?" the prisoner mocked. "It took three ships to bring my flag down!" Half rising he slammed his clenched fist on the table. "I was cornered at the edge of an asteroid field with little choice but to fight. Three of best captains in the Expanse attacked me. Not that focha Svikari! I lost more than half of my crew before they even boarded us. I was the only one left alive. They used a stunner to capture me. I think it was two days before Svikari bought me from them. He doesn't have courage enough for a real fight. Svikari can't see a target unless its back is turned. What a brave privateer! A true credit to your Empire."

"So who exactly was it you were fighting?" Jack asked. Unobserved he had sat up in the chair and now looked only marginally more interested as he examined his finger nails.

The prisoner turned gem hard eyes on him before he answered, "Odion Kin Slayer's men."

"Boss of the Benin Straights," Fidda said from her place near the door. "Word from some of our other prisoners is that he's taken over most of the Wahrg Rim. Supposedly he killed the Boss of the Rim, Stone Fist McGruder."

Amelia arched a questioning brow at the prisoner.

"McGruder, the previous Boss," he said. " I am Amin-ud-Din, McGruder's best captain. His champion. I am now Boss of the Wahrg Rim Confederacy."

Amelia studied the pirate before her. Lean and handsome, he was, but more than that, he was strong and undaunted by his current situation. She had fought pirates many times. All too often they were no more than brigands out to capture a ripe prize and then off as quickly as they could to spend their loot. Those had been brave enough for a sudden onrush but not brave when it came to fighting a victim that put up serious resistance. Few had fought with anything like courage. Most had been cowed into pleading for their lives, offering everything they had to escape the noose. This Amin-ud-Din was another sort all together.

"Guard!" Amelia called loudly enough to be heard on the other side of the thick door. When the summoned guard stuck his head through she ordered, "Bring Captain Svikari here immediately. Arrest him if he refuses. Take as many men as you need. Go to the Smollette if you do not have sufficient troops available. Tell Bosun Closton what I have ordered you to do. He will provide as many men as you need. Alert the patrol boats that no ship is to leave the port until I give the all clear."

* * *

><p>"There is no sign of Captain Svikari, Commodore," reported Ensign Tupps. The lad looked tired. There had not yet come a draft of men to replace those lost in the attack nad the young officers were having to pull twice the number of watches as usual. It was beginning to wear them down. "According to the dock master he sailed twenty minutes after the <em>Witch of Mirzam<em> and the _Morsa_ came in with their prizes, Ma'am."

"Damn," Amelia cursed softly. "Very well, Ensign. Please inform the patrol boats and the dock master that any ship wishing to leave may do so. Convey my thanks to Captain Pillorey for his forbearance, also. You may go."

The young Ensign saluted crisply before departing the prison block. Amelia turned to regard Captain Amin-ud-Din with half-lidded eyes.

"This puts me in an unenviable position, Captain." She paced to the small, barred window and gazed out at the docks. "I have only your word that Svikari acted as you say. The circumstantial evidence supports you, however. And my gut feeling is in agreement with that evidence."

"What are your intentions, then, Commodore?" the pirate asked her.

"Svikari could be a danger to this base and the civilians it guards," she said without answering his question. "That responsibility is not mine, however. It is in Captain Pillorey's hands. My concern is Captain Silver and his recovery. I wish to attend to that as soon as possible. Can you help in that matter?"

"Perhaps," Amin-ud-Din said noncommittally.

"Do you know where me da is, or not?" Fidda snarled striding across the room glaring at the pirate. Her hands were clinched in fists and she was fairly shaking with the effort of containing her anxiety.

"I do not," Amin-ud-Din said with dignity. "There is one I can take you to who may be able to tell you."

"You can take us to this person?" Amelia said coolly. "Can you not tell us where this person is?"

"If I did, you would not find her." The pirate's demeanor was calm and confident. Amelia took him at his word. She felt he was not attempting to mislead her.

"Where is it that you must take us, then?" she asked.

"Ciotola Caregos," Amin-ud-Din said seriously. Jack and Amelia only looked blankly at the pirate captain but Fidda reacted instantly to his words. She went pail, putting her hands to her mouth, her eyes had gone wide in shock.

"What's this place, then, Fidda?" Jack asked warily. He sensed something unnatural was up. Fidda could not respond. She was very clearly shaken.

"What is it?" Amelia demanded of the prisoner.

"A place from the old times. It is avoided. A field of asteroids that was once a thriving planetary system. The name means 'haunted stones'." Amin-ud-Din was looking at Fidda with a little compassion. His tone was flat and he did not appear to like the idea of going into this region.

Jack looked from Fidda to Amelia and saw in the commodore's eyes that she knew what the prisoner meant. There was a dimness in them that spoke of knowledge unwanted.

"Amelia?" Jack asked.

"There was a time before the Galactic Empire was founded, Jack," Amelia said quietly. She was looking at Amin-ud-Din but not seeing him. "The worlds that now make it up were being threatened by something we could not contend with individually. Colonies were being overrun. Ships, entire fleets were consumed in one-sided battles. There was a darkness on the deeps of the Etherium. A race of machines, Jack. Machines that had no pity. As far as any could determine, they did not understand what we were. They came for the raw resources of our worlds. Iron, crystals, copper, sand, all of the things they needed, they took. Only when our worlds came together, united under a single leader, did we finally begin to defeat them. The Procyon and the Mhinm fought at our side and it was still nearly too much for the combined fleets to overcome. For centuries we scoured the planets clean of these things. We laid waste to entire systems to eradicate them, Jack. From time to time we still find signs of their presence. Places to be avoided. Places where people do not go."

"And this Seeatla Cargoes is one of them?" Jack asked frowning.

"Ciotola Caregos," Amin-ud-Din corrected him. "It is what is left of one."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter XVII**

"What's Amelia doing?" Fidda asked Jack in a whisper. They were standing on the wharf where Amelia's flotilla was moored. On the battered metal plating stood the gathered company of all three crews, their officers and all of the mates. Amelia was going to address them.

"You weren't aboard Smollette before the battle," Jack replied just as quietly. He understood what was coming even though he would not have done things this way. He went silent when Amelia stepped to the front of the assemblage.

"Gentlemen," Amelia said in a loud, ringing tone. Her voice had been trained on the embattled decks of scores of ships with the cries of wounded men and the thunder of cannon to overmatch. "I am about to set sail on a mission that may prove too much for me. We will be going somewhere potentially more dangerous than a pitched battle. In good conscience I can not ask you to follow me, nor will I order you to do so. There is no certainty of success. If we fail our end will be... terrible. No one will come to rescue us. No one will know where we have gone. None will know our fate."

Amelia paused long enough for her words to sink in. She looked at the faces of her crews. Some were concerned. Others were surprised. All were interested.

"I will only take men willing to sail into this uncertain end," she went on. "Any who do not wish to go will not be required to do so. There will be no retribution, no recrimination. Indeed, you may be wiser for not participating. However. if you have faith in me, if you believe I would not lead you into such a fate without good cause, then take one step forward."

There was no hesitation from the old spacers of the Morsa. A beat later, all of the men recruited from the Glorious stepped up next to them followed immediately by those recruited by Jack from the docks at Mhoth. Glances passed between the privateers who had joined here on this very dock. It was one man who took a long step forward that caused the flood tide among them. Dr. Meriwether, head held high, stepped forward with his eyes fixed defiantly on Commodore Amelia. He winked as if at a joke. As his second foot settled the first of the privateers stepped forward. Before his move was done they were all stepping forward.

"I don't believe it," whispered Fidda.

"That's Amelia," Jack whispered back smugly.

* * *

><p>The three ships of Amelia's flotilla set sail only a few hours later. The sun was not at its best angle to gain the most thrust for the drives but setting out from a spaceport was much easier than from planetary docks. They didn't need to use the power stored in the capacitors and the ships were not particularly sluggish in getting up to cruising speed.<p>

Amelia kept Captain Amin-ud-Din aboard the _Smollette_ under the watchful eyes of Mr. Closton, Mr. Brraadtt and Broad Foot who looked happy to be back aboard. It seemed that something about the _Witch of Mirzam_ had unsettled him. Brraadtt had mentioned the little Raposa had not eaten properly nor been able to sleep well the entire cruise. Amelia had noted for herself that Broad Foot had lost a little weight and his fur was ruffled and out of sorts. What was it about that ship? Jack seemed to have taken to it with relish. And from the little she had seen of Mr. Grugh he had completely changed. He walked with a steady, purposeful stride. Gone was the staggering drunkard. In his place was a confident, competent bosun with a hard eye for slackers and an encouraging word for a good hand. She had to admit her first impression of the man had been wrong.

These thoughts brought her back to consider her 'guest'. Amin-ud-Din was clearly not an ordinary pirate. Indeed, he did not comport himself as such. He certainly did not look like any pirate she had ever encountered. Now that his clothing was clean she would have taken him for an officer of a neighboring power's fleet. That realization checked her in her thoughts. She paused, narrowing her eyes on the tall, dark figure. Proud, severe, strong, he moved with the sure gate of a man who had spent a life aboard ship. He did not look at the common spacers when they passed. His eyes constantly drifted to the rigging and the stars the way hers did whenever she strode a deck. It wasn't a show he was putting on. It was habit. Had he been in civilian clothes Amelia could still have picked him out as an officer. What if Amin-ud-Din was not the exception to the rule among the pirates of the Expanse? It could mean real trouble for the Empire. The raid on Situla might be the start of a second war the Empire was not ready to fight. If the pirates of the Expanse were lead by such officers there would be little the frontier outposts and Fleet bases could do to stop them for long. _This whole thing must be resolved immediately._ Amelia thought.

* * *

><p>"So tell me, Mr. Grugh, what you know of this place we're sailing off to," Jack said as he continued to disassemble yet another pistol. He had called the bosun to his cabin soon after the flotilla had sailed and now shared a bottle of good purp brandy with him. Jack had requested half a dozen pistols of different make from the arms locker and once Grugh had arrived they'd begun to tear them down and pile the parts haphazardly in the middle of the little table.<p>

"Um... Not sure I knows much 'bout it, Cap'n." Grugh looked at Jack as another priming crystal dropped on the pile. "Cap'n, what is it ye be doin' exactly?"

Jack blinked at him as if at a child. "I should think it's obvious, Mr. Grugh. I'm taking apart these pistols."

"Aye, Sir," Grugh said pursing his lips and squirming in his chair as if it were too small for his broad frame. "But why are ye doin' it, Sir?"

Jack gave Grugh a straight look then his eyes rolled up and around the ceiling of the small cabin, meaningfully. He said, "To pass the time, Mr. Grugh."

Grugh glanced at the ceiling with sudden comprehension dawning on his rugged features.

"Oh! Oh, I see, Sir." Grugh cleared his throat and took a long swallow from his mug before continuing. "Well, Sir, Ciotola Caregos is mostly just a rumor among spacers, ye see? Just a taproom legend, really."

"Legends, in my long experience, Mr. Grugh, usually have a ponderous foundation in fact." Jack dropped the frame of the now disassembled pistol on the top of the growing pile of parts. He lifted another weapon from the stack Grugh had brought and handed it to the bosun before lifting another one and beginning to take it apart. "Tell me the legend, Mr. Grugh."

"Aye, Sir," Grugh said uncomfortably and then began removing the main power core of the weapon in his hands. "Some say there are things there that steal a man's soul. Others say there are monsters locked away there that reach out and drag ships into the dark, old sun in the middle of the debris field that used to be the planetary system. There's a graveyard o' ships the like ye've never seen, Cap'n. More than what were at Mhoth. More maybe than what's in the entire Fleet. More than a thousand years o' ships, Sir."

"Even though no ships go there?" Jack asked reasonably. He dropped another piece of the pistol on the pile.

"Um... Well, Sir..." Grugh frowned in thought for a moment. He had never considered that angle before.

"Aside from the monsters and ships, Mr. Grugh, what else have you heard?"

"Not very much," Grugh looked very uncomfortable now. He jerked a part free with unconscious force. "One story I heard years ago was a captain sailed there to find out what had happened to his wife. She'd been an officer on a sloop, ye see? The sloop went missing and he loved her so much he'd brave anything to get her back, Sir. When he sailed out of the debris field he made straight for home. He never set foot onboard ship again. Most of his crew settled down. Those that didn't, never set foot on a planet again. They were all changed men. None would talk about the place."

"And the captain's wife?" Jack asked in a hushed voice.

"No one ever saw her or her ship again, Sir." Grugh whispered. He dropped the last part of his pistol on the table and drained his mug.

* * *

><p>"Amelia, I... Amelia..." Delbert didn't know how to say what was on his mind. He felt completely out of sorts since they had set out from Situla. He knew many tales of Ciotola Caregos. None of them ended well. Now, done with their daily rounds, husband and wife settled in for a night's rest.<p>

"Delbert? What is it, Darling? You sound as if you've eaten something disagreeable." Amelia was putting a brave face on things but even she felt the uncertainty pervading the crews of her ships. It was most notable among those who had spent long years on the border of Muliphein where mixed the good citizens of the Empire and the pirate traders of the Expanse.

"No, dear, it's not that," Delbert said then cleared his throat the way he always did before addressing something unpleasant. "I was wondering how much you trust this Amin-ud-Din. That's all."

"I don't really trust him, Delbert." Amelia removed her jacket, hanging it on the peg behind the door. "I simply believe he is telling the truth. There is a difference."

"Oh. I think I understand," said Delbert putting on his night shirt. "So, do you think this person he is taking us to will be able to tell us where Captain Silver is?"

"Delbert, you know more about this sort of thing than I do. I defer to you in this particular. What do you think?"

He sat on the edge of their little bed and considered a long moment while his wife continued to prepare herself for the night. She would not sleep as they did when at home. She remained in her uniform and slept in the chair behind her desk. Amelia's only concessions to comfort at such times were the removal of her jacket and her boots. These she had long practice in donning quickly.

"Everything I know relating to those who seek information from this kind of... oracle, I suppose, points to a heavy cost for it." Delbert looked unhappy. "Haven't you paid enough?"

"Yes, Delbert," Amelia said levely. "I've nearly paid too much. But somehow I don't think it is I who will pay the price this time. I worry about Fidda. That girl is so very lost without her father. I can only remember what it was like to lose my own. I was about her age. And daddy didn't come home. Perhaps that's why I want to help her so much. As much for her sake as for Silver himself."

She reached out and turned the dial down on the light casting the cabin in darkness. Eventually she heard Delbert sigh and lay back on the bed. Soon his steady breathing came softly to her and its homey sound let her forget her troubles for a while. She leaned her head back and slept.

* * *

><p>Jack woke to a quiet clicking noise. It was nearly too soft to hear but he had been expecting it. His ears had remained alert even if he had slept. Without moving more than need be, Jack slipped his hand under the pillow and grasped the strange device Grugh had told him would let his eyes see in the darkened cabin. It had a strap to hold it to a man's head but Jack made do with placing it over his eyes and rolling quietly over. The noise stopped until Jack pretended to snore. He waited a moment after the sounds resumed. With the press of a small button on the side Jack could suddenly and clearly see everything in the room as if cast in a lurid red glare. Upon the table hunched a small creature no larger than a cat. Well, no larger than an Earthly house cat. It was considerably smaller than Amelia but Jack reminded himself that she was not a cat no matter how much she looked like one. Mentally batting such notions away Jack concentrated on the thing. It moved quietly and carefully, piecing together each pistol. The pile of parts was already much diminished. He could clearly see the frames of all six pistols neatly laid out on the table and as the creature picked a part from the pile it would sniff it and seemed to run a tongue over the piece before turning sinuously to fit it to the right weapon.<p>

Watching in fascination Jack observed the animal in detail. It had feathers much as he had expected and a head resembling that of a falcon or hawk but its body was shaped like a weasel or stoat. Four short legs supported it and from its shoulders sprouted elegant wings that remained close to its slinky body. Jack had hardly noticed the wings until it had raised them in apparent frustration when a part did not immediately fit. The last thing Jack saw was its tail. Long and slender like a cat's tail but at its end was a dagger-like blade that caught the small light coming in through the cabin window.

_Bloody hell,_ Jack thought. _Not quite what I was expecting, there._

The creature took its time assembling the pistols and when it was finished it quietly scampered around the room as if inspecting every nook and cranny. It eventually came to the bowl Jack had set out filled with the milk it had seemed to enjoy. He'd also left a small stack of ship's biscuits and some cooked sausages. The creature went right for the milk and drank it all down going so far as to lift the little bowl in its front paws and lick it clean. The sausages it sampled but didn't seem to care much for, even if it did finish half of one. The biscuits it ignored save that it stacked them neatly on the saucer.

Having finished its meal it dropped noiselessly to the floor spreading its wings slightly and then made for the cupboard under the magical tea brewer. It opened the cupboard door a crack and slipped in like liquid. Jack was out of his bed and across the room with the seeing device pressed to his eyes. Carefully, so as not to startle the little creature, he eased the cupboard door open. His boots hung there upside down as usual but there was no sign of the animal. Jack pulled the boots out of the way and cast them on the floor. He moved his fingers over the surfaces inside the cupboard burning them slightly on some metal coil in the process. He jerked his hand back and somehow managed to bump the side of the cupboard pretty hard with his knuckles. What happened next surprised him so much he completely forgot his burned fingers. A little panel flipped open to reveal the creature in the middle of cleaning itself. It looked up at him with what Jack could only interpret as shocked embarrassment like the time he had walked in on that parson in the middle of using his chamber pot. Both froze for an instant. They stared wide-eyed, confused about how to proceed. The creature made up its mind pretty quick, darting through a hole that looked far too small to hold it, leaving behind a single feather and a very befuddled and delighted Captain Sparrow.

Before returning to his bed Jack made a point of pouring another bowl full of milk and returned his boots to where the little animal seemed to think they belonged.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter XVIII**

Ten days at flank speed the ships sailed deep into the Expanse, deeper than they had previously ventured. Amin-ud-Din set the course well away from any enemy port. As he had told Amelia, he did not know which ports were now under the control of Odion and which remained faithful to him. Wiser to shun them all. At three bells of the morning watch on the eleventh day a call rang out from the Smollette's lookout. Ciotola Caregos was sighted. Bleary-eyed spacers poured on deck, all rushing with feelings of apprehension and wonder to the rail seeking their first sight of what they dreaded. What met their eyes was a vast disc of shimmering grey and silver. From its surface reflected twinkling lights in all the colors of the rainbow. They were at such a great distance the disc appeared to be solid with a small, dull orange star in its center. The whole was no larger than the tip of a man's finger at this range. Many were at first confused by the strange sight but quickly all understood. No planets remained in the system. The great disc was what was left.

"What do you make of it, Delbert?" Amelia asked her husband. He had brought his excellent telescope from the cabin and was eagerly examining the demolished system. Through the power of its lens he discerned the typical large, tumbling boulders the size of continents. Smaller boulders no larger than mountains were less obvious among the background clutter. Mixing between everything was a much dispersed cloud of dust and ice that gave the great disc its deceptive appearance of solidity.

"It's frightening," Delbert breathed once he'd had a moment to assess the field. "Some day those rocks will reform into planets but I doubt even the Empire will last so long."

"Is it what I feared it would be?" Amelia asked ignoring the awe in his voice.

"Yes." Delbert looked over his shoulder at his wife with sad and frightened eyes. "The Wheir. It was one of their outposts."

Amelia shuddered. The Wheir Techno Imperium had been the enemy of darkness all those ages ago. This system had been among those purged by the combined fleets. This kind of destruction was the reason the Benin Straights were composed of so many asteroid fields. In this region of the Expanse were fought the last and most destructive battles against them.

"Do you see a way in?" she finally asked.

"There is no way in, Commodore," said Amin-ud-Din from behind them. He had come from the small cabin Amelia had assigned him. Behind the pirate was Mr. Closton with cutlass and pistol should they be needed. "We can not enter with a ship. The asteroids would pulverize any that tried. Only with longboats can we penetrate to where I intend to bring you."

"You made no mention of this before." Amelia's voice was cool and level, her eyes narrowed.

"Would it have mattered?" the pirate returned. "You wish to get answers. This is where they might be had. Go in with longboats or turn back for the border. It's your choice, Commodore."

With few options Amelia held her course. It took two more days of steady sailing to reach the great disc. At this range the mountains looked exactly like what they were. The massive continent sized boulders looked like irregularly shaped moons. Stones and blocks of ice as big as a ship of the line drifted among them and sometimes would collide with the greater chunks to send out sprays of finer material. There was a constant din of grinding and hammering that sounded like every blacksmith, stone mason and carpenter ever born were at work attempting to rebuild that which had been sundered.

Amin-ud-Din stood in the crows nest with a spyglass to his eye for hours on end before he finally called down a new heading that took the ships toward the sun. He skinned down one of the shrouds to the deck soon after and with Mr. Closton in tow went to Amelia to bring her the news.

"A few more hours on this heading will get us close enough for the longboats, Commodore," the pirate shouted above the thunder of Ciotola Caregos.

"Very well, Captain," Amelia shouted back. "Will there be air we can breathe?"

"Masks for any going in would be a good idea but not absolutely necessary, Commodore," Amin-ud-Din replied. "We'll be in shelter once we get to where we're going. There is a breathable atmosphere and gravity. Enough room in the entrance to shelter the boats. Finding the entrance will be the next tricky part."

"Have you any idea how long it will take us once we find this person?" Amelia shouted.

"No, Commodore," he yelled. "I think it will depend on the questions you ask. I cannot really say with any certainty."

"Very well, Captain. Thank you." Amelia turned her attention to Mr. Closton. "Run up a signal to alert the Morsa and the Witch we'll be going in soon. They need to have their shore parties ready with masks."

Rather than attempt to say anything Mr. Closton gave Amelia a nod and knuckled his brow before escorting the pirate captain away.

* * *

><p>"What's this, then?" Jack asked Mr. Grugh with a yell.<p>

"A mask, Sir. Here, I'll put it on ye."

Grugh took the flexible thing from Jack's hands then removed the captain's hat before fitting the mask over his head. Instantly the noise Jack had been enduring was dramatically lessened. The mask fitted very much like a kind of helmet with a sort of leathery aventail draping down around the neck and shoulders. Mr. Grugh lifted Jack's arms and secured a strap from the back to the front on either side. He drew these straps snugly into place and shifted the mask so that it lined up properly with Jack's eyes. A snout protruded in front of Jack's nose and mouth with some strange cylinder affixed to it.

"Now, Sir, all ye need do is breath normal like," Grugh yelled next to his ear. "In the dark touch this switch here and ye'll have light, Sir."

Jack took a deep breath feeling as if the mask were ready to suffocate him. The whole thing was very claustrophobic and he didn't like it one bit. The air that filtered into the mask was very clean. It was warm and lacked any scent at all until Jack breathed out. Then he had a real problem. Ever since he'd drunk that green stuff with Fidda the night he'd met her his breath had been rank and inside this mask it was nearly overwhelming. He gasped in a clean breath and hoped he would get used to it before much longer.

Grugh, having first donned his own mask, settled into the longboat next to the drive. The narrow bay door rolled aside as Dr. Meriwether found a place near the front of the small boat. Jack had chosen to sit in his usual spot opposite Grugh, looking forward. Meriwether was along because he was the most educated man in Jack's crew and because a medical doctor might come in handy if the shore party ran into difficulty. It didn't hurt that he seemed very handy with that pistol of his. The longboat was lowered through the opening and then cast off. Grugh guided it into formation with the boat from the Morsa which also bore three passengers. Fidda was easy to pick out for her height and Alamimo for her build. The third in the party was a slim spacer Jack did not recognize. He sat near the front the Morsa's boat and constantly looked over his shoulder as if trying to take in as much of the sights as he could. They met up with Amelia's boat in a matter of a minute or so. Amelia sat at its helm with Delbert opposite her. Just forward of the drive sat Mr. Brraadtt and forward of him was the tall, lean figure of Captain Amin-ud-Din. The pirate shouted something to Amelia, pointing down at a spot in the debris. Amelia gave a nod, checked to be sure the others were ready, then all three boats swooped down toward the boiling caldron that had been a planetary system in the dark past of Muliphein.

It took them at least half an hour of dodging boulders and rocks to find the particular lump of blasted and scarred stone Amin-ud-Din wanted. They had another half hour of searching over its surface before they found the cleft in the massive stone wherein the boats could shelter. A rude ledge jutted from the craggy face of stone. Driven into it were a dozen metal spikes that served as cleats on which to tie the boats' painters so they would not drift off. Jack followed close by Dr. Meriwether was the first onto the stone ledge.

"So this is it?" he shouted to be heard above the grinding of the debris field. His words were greeted with cries of protest and surprised anger that crackled and popped in his ears.

"Jack!" Amelia barked harshly. "There is no need to shout. We can hear you quite well. The masks are all on the same frequency and well within transmission range."

Jack was puzzled by her words but comprehended her meaning. Amelia's admonition had come directly to his own ears without distortion. He blinked. Yet another wonder from these people of the stars.

Amin-ud-Din did not hesitate once everyone was on the ledge. He walked across its rough surface to a point on the stone wall and gave it a hard shove. The stone shifted opening a crack wide enough for a person to step through. Brraadtt caught the pirate's arm before he could disappear into the gloom beyond, earning himself a look from the masked pirate and then a shrug.

Amelia stepped around the pair with a torch and shone her light into the space beyond the opening. With a wave of her hand she beckoned the party to follow her inside. There they found a sort of grotto, all bare, dry stone. It went back into the rock for some distance. At the end of the passage they found an ancient armored door that looked as if it would take a herd of elephants to move but at a slight pull from the pirate it swung smoothly on massive hinges. The room beyond was illuminated with a low, green-blue light that did nothing to inspire confidence in Jack's mind. Again Amelia led the way.

Once inside Amin-ud-Din removed his mask letting his long ears relax into their accustomed upright posture. The others followed his example before gazing all around the chamber. Walls of polished metal rose to a ceiling of the same material. Small lights scattered over the surfaces winked on and off. Objects hung from the ceiling. Strange tables and shelves were piled with odd assortments of devices and parts and wires all jumbled together haphazardly.

"What is this place?" asked the slim spacer Jack had not recognized. Jack was struck speechless. Not because the place was so strange, rather because it felt so familiar. He had never been here before but he had seen a place very like this with all of its hanging things and the piles and stacks of other things. The cobbled together nature of the room reminded him of a place on a small island in the waters he called home. The hairs on the back of his neck rose in instinctive fright.

"It is a place of the Old Time," Amin-ud-Din said into the still silence.

"It is a place of all time," came a voice silky and pleasant but unearthly all the same. Everyone turned in different directions not knowing where it had come from. Hands went to weapons. Bodies crouched into postures ready for combat but no threat came. A tinkling, clicking noise emanated from a point behind one of the tables and before their eyes bits of metal, wire, gears and gems assembled themselves into the likeness of a woman. Long coils of cable draped down from her head curving off towards the walls to disappear into the dimness. Overlapping sheets of plate formed a strange sort of bodice on a slim figure. Metal gears collected to shape her shoulders and then were covered in more of the plates. Her face assembled from shining silver and brass with gleaming gems for eyes. She was beautiful. A moment of awe inspired silence stretched until the assemblage was complete. Then she said, "And a place of no time at all. Forever it is here."

"Aldora Antiope," said the pirate captain with a touch of forced cheer.

"Amin!" the metal woman said and lightly stepped around the table in a soft rustle of metal. "It has been so long since last you came! How you've grown, just look at you!"

"I am much older than I was, Lady," Amin-ud-Din said with a gentlemanly bow. "May I present Commodore Amelia of the Imperial Galactic Fleet."

"I know who she is," said Aldora with a welcoming smile cutting off Amelia before she could speak. Aldora stepped closer to Delbert causing him to bump into a table as he stepped back. "And I know her most beloved husband. He who looks into the stars with the eyes of a child. Ever wondering what is out there and finally finding the courage so long buried in his breast."

Her finger lifted Delbert's chin slightly and she planted a very dainty kiss on the end of his nose. Delbert blinked in confusion as she stepped close to Alamimo. Intepere moved up to place himself within arm's reach of the pair.

"Another who looks at the stars. I know you well Green Daughter of Daughters, Alamimo. You love and do not know who it is. Fear not. Time shall tell." Aldor's eyes traveled to Intepere. He flinched at their regard. She smiled knowingly but only reach out a gentle hand to touch his chest softly before turning away.

"And I know this one too," she said coming to Jack.

"Me?" he tittered uncertainly, losing his usual confident demeanor. "How do you know me?"

"Beware, Jack Sparrow," she said. "Freedom is a gift that must be earned. A heavy toll and choices await you. No more can I say. My sister will reveal all in time."

A cold weight settled in Jack's stomach. He felt fear and uncertainty the like of which he had never felt before. Aldora smiled on him before turning to Dr. Meriwether.

"Physician, healer, hunter," she said. "Here you could know all you could ever wish, Doctor. Yet these things are denied to you. It is for the best, Sir. Do not resent it."

"And loyalty personified stands humbly in this room." Aldora turned to Mr. Brraadtt and Mr. Grugh before Dr. Meriwether could speak. She stepped closer to the pair. Grugh shifted uneasily but Brraadtt simply regarded her with his usual stoic calm. "One knows what loyalty is and the other _is_ loyalty. Blessed are they for no choices need they make save what comes naturally to them. Choices you must make though, Fidda Silver."

Fidda's eyes snapped wide at mention of her name. How could this woman of metal know her?

"I weep for you, little lost one," Adora said coming to her. "Always fear. Always doubt. Stronger than you know you are. In your heart you will find the right choice. When the time comes."

"Madame, we have come to ask you questions," Amelia said finally shaking off the spell this place had wrought.

"So I know," Aldora replied and then faced her. "Speak the words and I will answer."

"We seek John Silver. Do you know what has become of him?" Amelia asked forcing her words to sound strong and confident.

"Taken, he was," Aldor said striding regally across the room to a large slanted table. She waved a hand and its surface shone with a light. "Odion Kin Slayer sought him."

"So Odion has him, then?" Fidda said. Her voice was small but fierce.

"No," Aldora said not looking away from the table. A chart glimmered into existence. "Odion sought him and took him but Odion feared betrayal. Always Odion is mastered by fear and ambition. He sways like grass in the wind and survives. Never does he live. John Silver lays now beyond Odion's reach. And yet to keep troth with others Odion must have him. He will try to get Silver back."

"Silver escaped?" Amelia asked crossing the room to stand near the table.

"No. He was lost," said Aldora. "Taken to a place where he could be kept until bargains made were fulfilled. Taken to be safe. To be punished."

"But why was he taken?" Fidda asked. Her face was twisted into an anguished scowl. Tears of frustration glittered in her eyes. "Da never did anything to Odion! He didn't even live in his territory. We never sailed to the Straights."

"Your father knew things," replied Aldora in a gentle voice. "He knew he wanted a better life for his daughter and so he was willing to trade what he knew and what he could learn for that. For you, Fidda. But then he met you, Commodore. He found another way. He was going to be at peace and give to his daughter all he could. What he felt he never gave to his wife. And yet bargains are not so easily broken."

"Silver made a bargain with whom?" Amelia demanded.

"The silent one. The one who listens. The stained hand. You know of who I speak," Aldora whispered. "And he would have what Silver knew. He would have it now if Odion had not intervened."

Before any more questions could be asked Aldora waved her hand over the glowing chart. The surface shifted and spun until it displayed a small planetary system of only three worlds and a single small star. The group gathered in closer all peering at the chart as the planets revolved around their sun.

"Do you know it, Dr. Doppler?" Alamimo asked the astrophysicist.

"Ah... No. I'm afraid I've never seen this one." He looked to Amin-ud-Din. The pirate shook his head.

"It is called many things in many languages," Aldora said with a sly smile. She glanced over her shoulder at Jack, a twinkle in her mechanical eyes. "I like the Latin, though. Aveum Terminus."

"Time's End," Jack breathed. "Sounds charming."

"How will we go there?" Mr. Grugh wondered out loud.

"I don't know and I don't care," Fidda growled. "All I know is me da is there. I'll do whatever I need to to get 'im back."

"As will we all," affirmed Amelia.

"Will you? Will you do it?" Aldora asked her with strange intensity. She turned to look at all of them. "What would you do?" she demanded pointing at Jack. "What would any of you do? Would you face your most dread fears? Would you sail to the edge of the Expanse and beyond? Would you?"

Aldora gazed at each in turn. She saw uncertainty resolve into determination. Each gave her a nod, some firm, some doubtful. Only Amin-ud-Din declined. He merely twitched his ear with an amused smirk curling his lips.

"Well then," she said finally. "It's a good thing you have a captain who has sailed those Wheir haunted shoals."

The members of the party looked from one to the other until all eyes rested on Amelia. She gave a nod.

"I've been there," she stated and fell silent. Glances made the round again.

"But even if we get to the system," Amin-ud-Din said after a moment. "We will still have three planets to search. It could take years."

"You will know which planet when you arrive," Aldora told him. "And there is one here could find whatever heart desires."

Jack flinched as her eyes once more settled on him. The others looked too and he flinched again. Aldora reached out and lifted a small, innocuous looking box the size of a woman's fist that hung at Jack's belt. Jack snatched it away stepping back several paces.

"What is it?" Fidda asked.

"Nothing!" Jack snapped. He got a hold of himself and said more calmly, "Just a compass. That's all."

"A compass?" Amelia asked with interest. "One of your magnetic devices that always points north?"

"Yes," said Jack.

"No," said Aldora.

Looks and glances darted through the party once more until all eyes rested on Jack again.

"It can lead anyone to the thing they want the most," Aldora said smiling a predatory smile at Jack.

"Where did you get it, Jack?" Amelia asked.

"I... I've had it. I brought it with me," he said growing more uncomfortable by the second. He desperately wanted to find some way to turn the situation in his favor. There just didn't seem to be one.

"You've had it?" demanded Amelia. "And you didn't tell me about it? Jack, we could have used it to find Delbert! We could have found him without risking the lives of my crew! How could you?"

"I didn't know it would work out here," Jack protested. "It's meant to be used on Earth. It isn't omnidirectional. It doesn't point up or down. Besides, every time I've opened it lately it keeps pointing in the same direction. I thought it was broken."

"Let me look, Jack," Alamimo said coming to his side. Reluctantly Jack opened the Japanned lid of the little box displaying the ornate face of the compass and its needle. Alamimo considered it. She frowned in thought and made some quick calculations on her fingers then smiled triumphantly. "It's pointing back to your home world, Jack. Almost dead at it, in fact."

"I believe you've mentioned being homesick a time or two," said Amelia evenly. "It works."

"But I didn't know it worked and now we do," Jack said trying to sound enthusiastic and apologetic at the same time. "So now we sail to this Aveum Terminus, snatch Silver and we're headed back to Situla before we're missed."

"The compass will work once you've reached the planet, Commodore," Aldora said. "It must be held by she who most desires to find John Silver. Another would lead you astray. Are there other questions you wish to ask?"

"Yes," Fidda jumped in. "Is da still alive?"

Aldora smiled down on her. She patted Fidda's cheek kindly. "He is alive, child. He is alive. But you must hurry to him. Before it is too late."

"Then I suggest we go, Commodore," Amin-ud-Din said.

Amelia nodded and went to the door giving it a push. She gestured for everyone to go out and waited as they filed by. She had begun to turn when she stopped herself. There was always a price to pay. She felt there might be a simple way to resolve the debt.

"Aldora," she said turning back to face the metal woman. "Would you... like to come with us?"

"Yes!" cried the oracle. She took a step toward Amelia only to freeze suddenly in place. The figure of the woman disassembled into bits and pieces, collapsing on the floor. The pile shifted and rose again into a new configuration of the same woman but different somehow.

"She must not," said the new Aldora. "Too dangerous is she to be loosed on the Universe you know."

"Dangerous?" Amelia asked.

"She does not yet fully understand what she must. There will be a time when she can leave. A time when she can be trusted once more." Aldor seemed to sag tiredly though she was a thing of metal and crystal. "Her kind betrayed the maker's trust. Beware the Wheir, Commodore. Now go. You will not need to return but you will be welcome if you do."

Amelia stepped out of the door not knowing what to feel about the machine. Part of her was sad and part of her was very much afraid. She must lead her crews to Time's End. It was a place she had hoped never to see again.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter XIX**

Amelia pushed the armored door shut then turned to find the rest of the party standing in the grotto all staring at her. She straightened her back and squared her shoulders glancing about them questioningly.

"Well?" Amelia said. "You seem to have something on your minds. Out with it."

"It isn't that we doubt you, Commodore," Alamimo began.

"When did you go to Aveum Terminus, Amelia?" Jack finished for her.

Amelia narrowed her eyes. Jack's tone had not been challenging. It had been firm but not disrespectfully so. Amelia reflected that Jack was probably getting back his own for her reaction to his keeping the compass a secret. Not accustomed to answering to her crews she debated whether to ignore them and simply push on. These were good and brave people, save for Amin-ud-Din the pirate chieftain. They were about to venture into the unknown on no more than her word and the faith that she could get them to where they were going and get them back again. They were sailing into harm's way for their friend and choosing to follow Amelia. They certainly deserved more than silence.

"As you may recall, Jack, I once was on a mapping expedition within the bounds of the Expanse," said Amelia clasping her hands behind her back and taking a few paces away from the group. When she turned back to face them her expression was troubled. "We mapped many systems and added much to the charts of the Imperial Cartography Institute. The expedition sailed into the system Aldora calls Aveum Terminus. As far as we knew it had no name. We gave it some number or other. We spent three weeks observing and mapping it. We examined the planets but not in any detail. When we came out of the gravity well of that orange star we discovered nearly six months had passed since we entered the system. We were long overdue returning to the Institute. Search parties had been sent out and returned without word of us. As we departed the system we encountered another vessel, freebooters. For a month they had been floundering in circles with their navigational computer offline. They'd gotten lost and blown off course by a freak storm. Once we got them out of the system they discovered their chronometers had lost only two days and that was as much time as they remembered passing."

"The system warps time?" Delbert asked amazed. "How extraordinary."

"And potentially dangerous." Amelia's tone was flat. "When we get there the flotilla will remain outside the system's horizon. A hundred miles should do. The astronomers determined that was the limit of the system's influence. We will sail to the planet with ship's boats. No reason for the crews to risk themselves needlessly. Now, before we return to our ships, you must all swear to keep that information confidential until we have completed this stage of the mission. I don't think the crews would mutiny but they are privateers. They never signed on for this kind of hazard."

All agreed to Amelia's demand and they returned to the flotilla waiting for them beyond the debris field. Once back aboard their respective vessels the captains formed up and with the _Smollette_ in the lead they sailed away from Ciotola Caregos to an even more dread place.

The crews noted but did not comment on the change in those who had ventured into the remains of the system. The strangeness was generally attributed to the same legends Mr. Grugh had imparted to Jack. The crews were nervous but followed willingly in the belief that they would serve the Empire by doing so.

Amelia apparently had no intention of mucking about. She ordered all ships to lay on as much sail as they would carry. With their drives running high Amelia's course cut close in to the various suns as they shot from system to system. Fidda worried her drive would melt or her capacitors would burst, yet she never once considered reducing her sail or her speed. Her wrights worked watch on and watch off the whole way. Before lines could rupture they would scramble through overheated ducts and crawl spaces to run fresh cable and splice the power current before the old line was pulled. Damage control aboard the _Morsa_ became adept in preventing disaster on an hourly basis. As for the _Witch of Mirzam_ she proved her worth over the long high-speed run. The corvette did not carry a great weight of cannon nor did she have the doubled redundant systems of the Smollette but her drive was never close to being taxed by the pace Amelia set. On several occasions Jack found Mr. Grugh sitting in the power room entranced by the Procyon drive's sheer artistry. Power and to spare, it had. More than enough to outstrip the _Smollette_ if they chose to, and it was a good thing. _Smollette_ drove onward, unstopping, into the blackest regions of the Etherium any of the spacers had ever seen. The stars here were farther apart and the solar winds they cast into the void grew weaker the further the flotilla travelled. Capacitors began to drain and not recharge fully before reaching the dead spaces between the systems. It was a terrible risk. They could find themselves stranded in a calm with naught but the ship's boats to tow the larger vessels into the richer currents. And with the greater spans of dead space it could prove too much.

Three weeks out from Ciotola Caregos the crews began to grumble. Men became sullen in their duties, though they did not neglect them. Food stores were dropping and fresh water was no longer fresh. Barrels sat empty in the holds. The spacers worried and quietly questioned the sanity of their commodore.

For all their troubles Jack seemed the only one not overly concerned. He kept a cheery facade when in the presence of his men and held small dinners with the mates and officers where they would sing and play cards for hours in the captain's cabin. On the fourth week Jack held a lottery for members of the crew. The winners would join him that evening for a dinner as the officers had and when the dinner was done those men reported their captain was a jolly soul and no finer skipper could they want. It was on a night such as this that Jack took Dr. Meriwether and Mr. Grugh into his confidence.

"Gentlemen," Jack said after the dishes had been cleared from the cabin and a bottle of purp brandy sat open with three small goblets. "I wish to share a secret with you."

Mr. Grugh and Dr. Meriwether perked up their ears looking intently at their captain.

"I'm sure by now both of you know something is special about this ship. I have discovered what it is." Jacks demeanor was like that of a magician about to pull a rabbit from a hat. He stood and stepped to the tea brewer, poured a bowl full of milk and opened the cupboard door. The doctor and the bosun watched fascinated and a little startled as a small, beaked creature nosed open a panel and stared out at them from the darkened recess. Jack set the bowl down on the deck in front of it. The creature glanced up at the men and then down at the bowl. It hesitated for a moment then all at once slipped out of concealment to sit by the bowl. Giving a quick look about the room it rose onto its haunches and lifted the bowl in its taloned paws. Rapidly it drank, not spilling a drop. When it had done it leapt to the small sink and quickly washed the bowl clean before placing it neatly to dry. It seemed on the verge of retreating to its nook when Jack gave a low whistle and waved a bit of sausage between two fingers next to his ear. The creature froze instantly with its eyes locked on the sausage. Up it sprang, wings spread slightly to alight on Jack's shoulder and took the treat from him, careful not to scratch his hand with its gleaming claws. Jack turned to look triumphantly at his guests.

"Where did you get that?" Dr. Meriwether breathed in astonishment.

"It's been aboard since before we left Mhoth, Doctor," Mr. Grugh told him without taking his eyes from the little animal. "But what is it?"

"I call him Hector," Jack said pleased with the surprised looks on their faces. He reached up a finger to stroke the little creature on the head. "Very clever he is."

"It's a gryphon, Mr. Grugh," Dr. Meriwether said with sparkling eyes. "A subspecies, I should say. The rare and not often seen Furudian Charweasel, I think. Native to the planet Furud in Zeta Canis Majoris in the Procyon Empire. I've never seen a real one before. I think, though, Captain, you will need to change the name. It's not a he."

"A girl?" Jack asked with a slight frown. Then he brightened. "Hecuba, then."

The little charweasel looked at him with narrowed eyes as if considering his words then seemed to shrug and go back to eating the bit of sausage.

"Smart little thing, she is," Mr. Grugh said amused. "Looked like she understood ye, Captain."

"Oh, they are very smart if the reports are to be believed," said the doctor. "This species is known for its penchant for keeping things in order. They are naturally inclined to neatness, which seems to stem from the rather harsh conditions on their home world. Storms and such with all manner of creatures to knock things about. Charweasels make very complicated nests to protect themselves and their offspring. By keeping things orderly they might be saving their lives. I really don't know enough about the them to tell you any more. This does explain why my medicine cabinet is always reorganized, though. Small bottles on one shelf and large ones on another with the colors of the glass being grouped instead of the bottles being organized by content like they should be. I don't know how many times I've set it right and locked up only to need something and find it back to where I'd started from. How she gets the lock open, I don't know."

"That, at least, I can tell you, Doctor," Jack said coming back to the table and setting another bit of sausage down where little Hecuba could get to it easily. "She uses one of her talons to pick any lock you like faster than a key could turn it. I've tested her."

"Is that why ye asked for all them locks tother day, Sir?" Grugh reached a finger out intending to stroke Hecuba's head as Jack had done but she dodged back into a crouch with her front claws spread, her wings slightly lifted from her body and that razor sharp stiletto of a tail waving menacingly. Her golden eyes glinted warily until Grugh settled his hand back to the table's surface. "Fast, she is. I didn't mean to startle ye, lass."

At those words Hecuba relaxed from her defensive posture and regarded Grugh earnestly. She picked up her bit of sausage taking a few quick bites then moved across the table to sit on Mr. Grugh's forearm while she finished her meal.

"Well, isn't that a thing?" Grugh smiled.

"I plan to introduce her to Larry, also, but none of the rest of the crew needs to know about her," Jack said seriously. "So far they seem to think this ship has something more to her than other ships and I want them to continue to believe that. If they suddenly found out about Hecuba they might lose some of the confidence in the vessel's preternatural abilities. Mind you, I have a feeling about this ship and its nature but I don't want the crew to have cause to doubt her."

"You're right there, Captain," the doctor said. "More than once I've heard the men say something about how the ship takes care of them and give a wink or a nod to their mates. I'll keep mum on the matter."

"Me too, Cap'n," Mr. Grugh agreed and ventured to give Hecuba a stroke on the head which, this time, she accepted.

On the sixth week a signal from _Smollette_ went up to cut their speed and cleave nearer a large bright blue star. The ships reduced power to their drives and slackened sail. The formation tightened up as they steered closer to the blue giant. Capacitor needles vibrated and began to climb towards peak. The wrights aboard Morsa breathed a sigh of relief, standing down for the first time in more than a month. Fidda ordered them to get rest while the machinist mates took a watch. The respite lasted only for a day. Amelia had gotten her bearings and the ships had been seen to. Off they sailed into the void, building slowly to flank speed in order conserve as much energy as possible.

Four days out from the lonely blue giant an orange star came into view in the distance. Amelia adjusted their heading to intercept it. Six more days at flank speed brought them to the very edge of Aveum Terminus and its dangerous shoal currents. Three planets orbited a sullen dark sun. Fields of dust drifted not unlike clouds between the planets. Flares of what looked like lightning blossomed mysteriously now and again. No source could be discerned. Fear and dread scratched at the collected consciousness of the crews. This system was strange beyond the ken of any aboard. Men made superstitious signs and gestures to ward off ill luck. Some rubbed their palms on their waistcoats and spat on the deck to keep away evil spirits. Others simply prayed. They had come to Aveum Terminus, Time's End.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> I pause here to credit my good friend Nytd, captain of the _Black Pearl_ forum. She was kind enough to offer me some suggestions for naming Hecuba, her species and her planetary origins. Hecuba is inspired largely by a story Nytd told me of a particular ferret she once had the pleasure of cohabitating with. The ferret had certain ideas of where items should be stored. Like Hecuba, her choices were not necessarily what the rest of the crew would have chosen. Thank you Nytd.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter XX**

"Delbert," Amelia said as they prepared to depart for the inner system. "I want you to wear this."

"A wright's cap?" he asked taking the metal safety helmet from his wife's hands. It was the sort of thing spacers wore in tight places, especially during battles, to keep them from being injured if the ship lurched suddenly. This one was badly dinged and dented. "Why?"

"It may be nothing," her voice was quiet, uneasy. Worry lines aged her beautiful features. "It may be important, though. Please, Delbert, wear it. And your brown hunting jacket. That is the best one you have for this sort of thing, anyway."

Puzzled and concerned for his wife, Delbert agreed and donned the items. He'd purchased the hunting jacket years ago when he'd been doing some exploring in the canyons of Montressor as a young man. Surprisingly, it still fit his much older frame rather well. His shoulders had filled out and his belly had rounded but the jacket had been over large for his youthful figure and perhaps he had simply grown into it.

* * *

><p>"Captain," Lh'aer'ri said when Jack and Mr. Grugh came on deck. "I... Sir, I wish you luck."<p>

Jack was not always able to comprehend the expression on his first officer's bizarre face but this time it seemed concerned.

"Larry, you have your orders from Commodore Amelia," Jack told him trying to make his voice sound confident. "I'm sure they will be unnecessary."

"And if the worst should happen, Sir?" Lh'aer'ri asked.

"Stick to the orders," said Jack with a firm nod.

Dr. Meriwether came on deck with his bag in hand just then. The three men strode to the rail with all hands on deck watching. Amelia's launch had come alongside to collect Jack's party. Once the three had joined Amelia, Delbert and Brraadtt the launch made way for the _Morsa_.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you want him along?" Alamimo asked Fidda with a nod toward Intepere who stood with Anamaria by the rail.<p>

"He's the best educated in the crew," Fidda replied watching as the launch approached.

"Still green, though," Alamimo grumbled. "Not sure how he'll act under stress."

Fidda eyed her for a moment with a smirk curling the corner of her lip.

"Captain, did I miss something?" Alamimo asked a bit vexed.

"I think so." Fidda couldn't help a little shake of her head. Could this woman be so dense? She turned her eyes back to Interpere. "He did well enough in the battle and he's served his gun competently under fire. We're taking him."

Further discussion was curtailed when the commodore's launch drew alongside _Morsa's_ rail. They clambered in and got settled as Mr. Brraadtt steered away from the flotilla. It would be a fairly long trip into the system but the launch was large and had an exceptionally powerful drive. It could ride through any disturbance a full sized ship could. With its generous spread of sail it had more than enough power to carry it for days on end as had been proven when Amelia had recruited Jack and Anamaria months ago. Jack was puzzled by the sheer quantity of food and water stowed below the thwarts and inside the little cabin in the bows. He began to wonder exactly what Delbert had meant by the system distorting time. That much food would last the small party for weeks at least. The distance to the furthest planet in this small vessel couldn't be more than a few hours. Perhaps Amelia was preparing for a long search on the ground. Presumably they would land near Silver and should be able to locate him quickly enough with the compass. Jack grew concerned. It occurred to him once more that he was out of his reckoning when it came to these strange places and peoples among the stars. He longed for home and the world he understood.

"Mr. Brraadtt," Amelia said looking up from her chart. "Steer two points to the notional south. Decrease thrust to one quarter power."

Brraadtt did as ordered but Delbert was curious why his wife wanted to reduce their speed. He was just about to ask when the launch shot forward alarmingly. All aboard clutched at handholds, leaning into the sudden rush of wind. In moments they came out of it. All were a little shaken. Jack picked his hat from the bottom of the launch and cast a frown towards Amelia.

"It might be safer for you to return to your seat, Captain Sparrow." Amelia seemed completely unruffled. She bent over her chart again with a pair of compasses measuring distance and heading. Her chronometer rested on the thwart next to her chart and she checked it often. Time and again she would call a course change to Brraadtt followed soon by a rushing or a slackening of the launch's speed.

After a time Delbert rose to examine the ether ahead more closely. He could see no changes in the void. As he turned to look off to their starboard he was shocked to discover a vessel of some size cruising by at a cable's length. Quickly he picked up his telescope and trained it on the ship. She was a Galactic Survey vessel under full sail making for the outer rim of the system. Her crew seemed oblivious to the little launch except for a blue coated officer on the quarterdeck. To his utter astonishment Delbert recognized his wife. She was several years younger wearing her old Fleet uniform jacket and a hat that had long since been lost.

"Amelia!" Delbert gasped.

"I know, dear," Amelia said very calmly. She remained hunched over her chart and did not look up. "I thought we might not pass this way but felt sure we would."

"Distorts time," murmured Jack gazing through his own spyglass at the ship. Anamaria reached and took it from him as Mr. Grugh rubbed his palms on his waistcoat, spun three times around and spat over the side. Intepere looked at Alamimo who looked back and frowned at him. Instantly he looked away.

"How many years ago?" Fidda asked.

"Nine," Amelia replied shortly.

The only one who remained unconcerned with the vessel was Mr. Brraadtt. It wasn't that he lacked curiosity. He simply was more concerned with what lay ahead of them rather than what lay in the past. He began considering and calculating possibilities but kept mum.

Slowly the ship passed from sight and soon after the launch rushed forward once more. The rushing sensation and blast of wind did not slacken for some minutes. Jack looked aft to discover Amelia furiously scribbling calculations on a pad. The urgency in her expression alarmed him and Jack turned to look ahead. Their course seemed bound directly for the second planet in the system. At the rate they were closing on it he reckoned they might just slam into the surface. Anamaria rose unsteadily from her seat, bracing herself against the mast. Her eyes were wide and frightened. Alamimo shouted something back to the commodore but her words were lost in the noise of the wind. She jerked Intepere to his feet and motioned him towards the lines that would lower the sail. Before he could move Amelia rose and gestured for everyone to sit back down. Mr. Grugh made another of his superstitious signs then hunched down screwing his eyes tightly shut. Dr. Merriwether leaned into the on rushing wind with an excited yet grim smile on his face. As suddenly as it had begun the wind died and the launch's speed dropped.

"Lieutenant," Amelia called to the young officer. "You must leave the sails and rigging as they are. My calculations and our lives depend on that constant. All of you must remain in your places. Any changes in the trim of the launch could trap us here indefinitely."

"Commodore," Fidda called back to her. "How do we know which planet me da is on?"

"He can not be on the inner most world, Captain," Amelia replied. "It is covered in molten metal and poisonous gases. Gases corrosive to almost anything. Even without those hazards, the gravity there would kill most forms of life within a few minutes. It must be one of the outer planets. Our course will place us between them and Captain Sparrow's compass should point us to the right one."

"And if it doesn't?" Fidda asked.

"We'll do things the old fashioned way and search from orbit for any sign of him," Amelia said confidently. The truth was she had no such confidence. These were large worlds that could take years to survey and might still reveal nothing of Silver's whereabouts.

It was another hour before they were in position to test Jack's compass. Reluctantly he handed it over to Fidda who, with a puzzled frown, opened it and watched as the needle spun round a few times before settling on a heading. Amelia made note of which planet it pointed to and consulted her chart. She motioned Delbert and Alamimo to join her and between the three of them they calculated the best trajectory to follow. Jack was again puzzled by this course. It seemed to head away from the planet but he sat and considered things. Given that the planet was moving on a known course and they wished to land on it, he reasoned they would need to line themselves up so as to intercept the planet's path. It was like leading a goose with a fowling piece. Shoot in front of the bird and the shot would meet the bird in flight. Shoot at the bird and the shot would pass harmlessly behind it. He sat watching with some little interest and tried to keep from smiling smugly when he was proved right.

"I don't see anything," Anamaria grumbled as they made another pass over the strange world. It seemed to be nothing but a gigantic ball of stone and metal. "It's all dead and cold down there. No color, even."

"Mr. Brraadtt, steer us into a low orbit," Amelia ordered. "Take us into the atmosphere. Then we'll try Jack's compass again."

Brraadtt adjusted the launch's course and dropped smoothly into the thicker air of the world. At this level things were a little colder than out in the ether. The atmosphere filtered the sunlight and the wind took the warmth from their bodies. Jack reluctantly handed Fidda the compass again and the needle danced finally settling on a new heading. Amelia gave Brraadtt his new course. Again he dropped lower to the surface where the air was thicker and the warmth of the sun was reflected up to them. From shivering to sweating in a matter of minutes, the crew all shook with more than nervousness now. The shock of the sudden changes made their stomachs queazy and prickly sweat broke across their skin. Or was that reaction caused by something else?

Anamaria scanned the surface with squinting eyes now. All over the rocky ground were strange structures with pipes and cables spread like an insane spider's web. Tracks and roads spread in all directions. Many were covered in layer upon layer of dust. Others gleamed as if they had just been made. Whirling tornados of dust and debris rambled across the bizarre landscape like giants out for a stroll. They passed from a fairly smooth, featureless plain to rolling country with delving trenches seemingly without bottoms that descended into blackness. A great canyon yawned below them and into this Amelia directed Brraadtt.

"The compass points straight ahead now, Commodore!" Fidda said excitedly. Jack watched furtively over her shoulder as if he were ready to snatch the compass back the very instant it was no longer needed.

"Reduce thrust to one eighth," Amelia ordered. She stood and strode to the bow. With her glass she examined the canyon ahead until she found a sign of their destination. Alamimo noticed the sudden change in the commodore's posture and went to her side drawing out her own telescope. She trained it in the same direction Amelia's was pointed and in a moment saw what had captured her commander's attention.

"A ship," Alamimo breathed.

"A ship?" Fidda cried springing to their side. Jack caught the compass before it could be dropped to the deck. "Where is it?"

"There." Amelia pointed and handed the girl her glass. "It looks deserted."

As they closed on the moored vessel everyone could see it was a small sloop of Alponian design. It sat on its keel on a narrow ledge under the shelter of a spur of rock thrust out from the canyon wall. There would have been no chance for them to spot the vessel from the air. They could not easily have found it without Jack's compass.

"If the compass is pointing right at it, da must be on board." Fidda's face shone with relief and joy. Jack thought she had not looked quite so pretty in weeks and the smile she now wore shed years off her. She looked like a little girl given a pony for her birthday.

Coming alongside the sloop everyone except Fidda grew uneasy. The ship was completely silent. Hands went to weapons as Mr. Grugh and Intepere cast lines over the rail and drew the launch close in to the rail. Fidda had to be restrained physically by Dr. Meriwether lest she leap onto the deck before they were certain of the situation.

"Still the drive, Mr. Brraadtt," Amelia ordered quietly. "Stand by to make a hasty departure should the need arise. The rest of you draw weapons and follow me."

Carefully the party crossed the sloop's rail and tread lightly upon the strange deck pistols and blades at the ready. They dispersed so that a single shot could not take them all unawares. First they cleared the main deck and examined the rigging. All seemed in order save that a heavy layer of undisturbed dust lay on every exposed surface. Amelia left Interpere as lookout while the rest descended below deck. From cabin to hold they found no sign of the ship's crew. Stores were still in the hold and racks of weapons in the arms locker. Here at least they discovered some indication the ship had been crewed. Several racks were missing weapons and the place where spare crystals were kept proved they had taken extras as a precaution against an extended confrontation.

It was Mr. Grugh who discovered the next clue of the crew's fate. The power room was empty. Not only was there no one to man the drive and all of the usual mechanical systems. There was simply no drive. It had been very neatly removed. The ends of cables were severed cleanly where they ran into bulkheads. Anchor bolts had not been unscrewed. They were severed as neatly as the cables. Whatever had caused this had done a very thorough job of it.

"What think you, Commodore?" Grugh asked in a worried tone.

"This is not what I had expected." Amelia turned to look around the dim hold. "No sign of Silver and yet the compass pointed us here."

"Not exactly, Amelia," said Jack. "The compass pointed dead head. This sloop was simply in line with the compass."

"But this is clearly the ship Silver was brought here on," Alamimo objected.

"And yet neither he nor the crew are aboard." Amelia's mind was running furiously. Her thoughts like quicksilver coalesced. "Quickly. Everyone on deck!"

The party scrambled for the ladder and soon were all standing uncertainly in a circle upon the main deck. They looked in all directions as if fearing an attack. Amelia broke away from them and strode to the rail opposite that which they had crossed to board. In the rock wall a low, wide opening lead into a black tunnel. Amelia called Jack and Fidda over and the routine of the compass was repeated. The needle pointed into the cliff wall.

"Another tunnel," Jack groaned. Behind him Alamimo shuddered and unconsciously wrapped her arms across her chest.


	21. Chapter 21

**XXI**

"You understand your orders, Lieutenant?" Amelia asked Alamimo. The two were standing upon the narrow ledge next to the sloop with the wind moaning above them.

"Yes, Commodore," Alamimo replied hesitantly. "Spacer Koholo and I are to remain here until the day before the flotilla is due to return to Situla. If you and the others have not returned by then we are to sail the launch back to the _Smollette _and deliver your orders."

"I'm sure we will be back long before then," Amelia assured the young woman. "Keep a careful watch. We don't know what it was that removed the drive from the sloop. Wouldn't do to have the same happen to the launch."

"No, ma'am," Alamimo said and looked down uncomfortably. "I would like to reiterate my protest at being left behind, Commodore."

"Duly noted, Lieutenant," said Amelia gently. "You are most needed here. Aside from Dr. Doppler and myself you are the only one who could get back to the ships. Study my charts and prepare your calculations. It would be difficult enough to make the needed adjustments with only one hand to steer her."

"Yes, Ma'am." Alamimo felt as if she were being left behind. She understood the necessity but that was small comfort to her. She had been through so much with these people, to be left to guard the launch now felt wrong.

Amelia turned to go but Alamimo put a hand out, stopping her. Amelia looked into her young face filled with worry.

"Good luck, Commodore," Alamimo said.

Amelia smiled and patted her hand. She turned then and joined the rest of the party in the entrance of the tunnel. Sound droned from deep within the rock. It was very low and not unlike the sound of water moving deep under the ground. The members of the party pulled their packs onto their shoulders and hefted their muskets. All looked to Amelia and she gave a nod. Fidda took Jack's compass, opened the lid and watched as the needle settled on a heading straight down the tunnel. With torches turned up to full illumination they strode in in single file.

Worried and frustrated Alamimo watched them go until the light of their torches faded into the gloom. A soft breeze rustled the furled sail and made the launch sway at its mooring lines. Alamimo was aware of these things but paid them no mind. She felt the weight of command on her shoulders consuming her, restraining her. Were she still the young, wild green Alamimo would have rushed after her friends. She had not been that child for ten years and never would be again. She closed her eyes and wished she were in her father's tree once more with his comforting songs in her ears. Her wishful memories were interrupted by the sound of Intepere clearing his throat. Alamimo turned to see him at the gunwale of the launch with a tray in his hands.

"Sorry, Lieutenant, but I know you haven't eaten since breakfast," he said sheepishly. "I took the liberty of assembling a small meal for you."

"A meal?" Alamimo said blinking. "I'm not sure I could eat just now, Mr. Koholo."

Intepere frowned thoughtfully down at the contents of the tray before he spoke again.

"I don't know as much about regulations as you do, Lieutenant, but I think there is a part in there stating that an officer must remain healthy and ready to do their duty. Officers are supposed to set an example for their crews. Is skipping meals the sort of example you intend to set, ma'am?"

This brought the slightest twinge of a smile to the young woman's lips.

"Very well, Mr. Koholo," Alamimo sighed. "I shall eat and set you an example. We'll dine in the cabin."

"We?" squeaked Intepere, his eyes widening in surprise.

"I don't intend to set an example on my own." She gestured at the tray. "Fetch enough for two but do not be extravagant. We may have a long vigil."

Intepere joined Alamimo in the little cabin aboard the launch a few minutes later. He entered with the same tray somewhat more heavily laden, but in accordance with the instructions, not to extravagance. Alamimo nibbled at first, hardly looking away from her plate. Intepere was still new enough to the life of a spacer to find even these survival rations interesting in their own way. Perhaps it was the strange world or the distressing situation that made him more nervous than usual. Perhaps his nervousness could simply stem from being this close to the unpredictable, fiery and quite beautiful young lieutenant. Either way, he was nervous and like many young men he began to babble.

"Until I joined the crew I had never tasted ship's biscuit." He nibbled the corner of one with a slight, bemused smile. "I'm still not sure if I like them. And the salted meat ration is always different. Never get it served the same twice. Still, as plain as the fair is I find it quite satisfying. A little heavy on breads and meat but filling and good for peasant food."

Alamimo's eyes rose from her plate at that statement. A mere spacer being so free with an officer present was not proper. She reminded herself, though, that Spacer 3rd class Koholo was very new to ship's discipline and since he was a privateer he was not actually a member of the fleet. She chose to overlook his indiscretion. This time.

"Peasant food?" she asked evenly.

"It's what my father calls it, ma'am" Intepere shrugged. "Father is of the opinion that the Fleet is fed too much and there are more ships than necessary. Too many officers getting admitted to the Academy and far too much spending on the ports and the expansion of the various facilities. He thinks more should be invested in mechanical monitoring stations and the like."

"And what do you think, Mr. Koholo?" Her voice contained a touch of irritation and smidge of anger. Intepere completely missed both.

"I'm not yet sure." He picked at a slice of hard cheese. "Seems like a great deal has been spent on getting the Fleet up to strength and yet there are all those ships still sitting in the graving docks back at Mhoth. Why bother refurbishing them if they aren't going to be used? And then there are all those dockworkers and tradesmen standing around or getting in each other's way. It's almost as if someone intentionally over staffed the yards so that they could make more money from the civil contractors."

"Money?" Alamimo asked suddenly genuinely interested. Her concern for the commodore and the rest quietly receded. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I hate to admit it but my father has been known to send three times as many workers to a project just so he can earn a larger bump from the contract holder." Intepere shrugged again. "It's a common practice."

"Bump?" Alamimo blinked at the unfamiliar usage of the word.

"When a contractor sends workers out to a project he gets a certain amount of money for each worker who actually shows up on time," the young Heliwr explained. "It's called a 'bump'. Government contracts usually have large budgets and are somewhat understaffed in the accounts department. The excess number of workers generally goes unnoticed for a few days so the bump is considerable. The more workers, the larger the bump. And the more days it goes unnoticed the more money a contractor makes. Smaller, privately run projects usually turn workers away after their roster is full but that doesn't decrease the amount of money for the contractor on the first day because the contract holder is still obligated to pay for all of the workers who show up on time."

"That sounds very unethical," observed the Lieutenant.

"Perhaps, but it is still legal," Intepere shrugged again. "It all depends on how the contract is written. The trade guilds are perfectly fine with it because their members get at least twenty percent of a day's wages if they are turned away. The contract holders normally budget more for a project than it is actually worth because they know this part of the game as well as anyone. And the contractors like my father always send just enough workers to make a fair sized bump without breaking the contract holders."

"And you say the number of workers on Mhoth is far in excess of the amount of work available?"

"I don't know about that, but it looked as if they were very poorly organized and since it is a government contract it's likely that the contractors are making a gigantic bump."

"That's war profiteering!" Alamimo snapped as she stood bolt upright. Her features twisted into an expression of outrage and indignation. Her Fleet was being used to line the pockets of unpatriotic thieves! Spacers were dying on the front lines of the war because someone wanted to get richer! To her these were not merely faceless individuals in uniform. They were her classmates, comrades, friends and family. Loyal men and women who were laying down their lives to stave off an invasion so these parasites could live in luxury and safety. Something had to be done!

"Who would these contractors be?" she demanded.

"Aside from my father?" Intepere said concerned at her sudden change of mood. "Most of the members of Parliament have some tie or other to the war industry. If we had the contracts we could find out."

"Where would we get the contracts?"

"Copies of them would be on Mhoth. Other copies would be in the records offices at Fleet Headquarters."

Alamimo paced in the small cabin like a lioness in a cage. Many thoughts and ideas blossomed in her mind. There were members of her family who might be able to get at those contracts. She might be able to initiate some action or other to force the contractors to do their duty and get those ships out to where they were sorely needed. Commodore Amelia had already taken some steps to help the Chief Administrator but surely there was more that could be done. And certainly those responsible would have to pay. She stopped pacing in front of one of the small portholes. She didn't at first know why she had done so but then realized there was something beyond the glass that had caught her attention. It was floating in the air and looking in on her. No larger than her clenched fist it seemed to ooze and shift with the eddies of the wind. A gelatinous pink body with no features other than a pair of very innocent-looking eyes and a small mouth that suddenly spread into an engaging smile.

"What the devil is that?" Alamimo breathed in confusion.

* * *

><p>Considering how bad things had looked from the outside Jack thought the tunnel was rather more pleasant than he'd expected. Smooth walls and floor had transitioned to a vaulted roof supported by heavy iron beams with a uniformly red-orange floor of some material very like stone. There had been a gentle sound not unlike a river deep under the earth. Now it was clearly not a river and it was just as clearly not a single sound. Many whispers of metal on metal and tiny ticks and scrapes as of a great many clocks all spinning their gears under the pressure of many little springs blended together to give the illusion of a single sound. Deeper grating noises rumbled through the stone at levels almost too low to be heard but distinctly felt through the soles of his boots added an undertone of strength. These sounds were almost pleasant. Add to all these things the fact that there had been no signs of anything that might be considered dangerous and Jack had to wonder why he was absolutely certain they were all about to die a hideous and ignoble death.<p>

Jack was very much in tune with his instincts and knew when he should pay close attention to them. One of his chief instincts at the moment indicated he should be drinking a large quantity of rum in some comfortable tavern on some warm tropical island anywhere on Earth rather than marching stoically to his death under the surface of an ancient and forgotten world so many millions of miles from the planet of his birth. This instinct was supplemented and reinforced by a slightly less powerful but far more persuasive instinct to turn and run away as fast as he could, perhaps even going so far as to do so while screaming like a little girl. He was held in his place by the very strong realization that he was, in fact, Captain Jack Sparrow, Pirate Lord of the Caribbean and Pirate Lords faced dangers others ran from. At least they did so whenever there were witnesses who might someday be able to tell others what had transpired. And then there was Fidda. Not only did she have his compass but he felt something strange whenever he looked at her. There had only ever been one other girl who had so captured his fancy. Unconsciously he breathed her name.

"Angelica..."

"What was that?" Anamaria asked as if surprised by the barely audible word.

"Hmm?" Jack replied suddenly aware he had spoken. He was about to say it was nothing, merely a passing thought, but Anamaria had not been talking to him specifically.

"There it is again!" she whispered harshly. Fear etched her features. She did not like this place. Anamaria was a child of the wide open seas and broad skies of Earth. Fresh wind and sparkling water had always been her companions. Down here with nothing but rock and iron revealed in patches of light cast by their torches she felt afraid and closed in. She would have long since turned back had it not been for the people around her. They were a comfort in this dark place but only enough of one to keep her going. "Did anyone else hear that?"

The whole party paused and listened. Among them Commodore Amelia had the sharpest hearing. Her ears pricked forward as she focussed on the tunnel ahead of them. She slowed her breathing and closed her luminous eyes to allow her mind to filter all the small noises and observe them for what they were. An instant later they snapped open and her torch panned down to a point some distance along the tunnel. In its light a tiny shape could be seen moving along a large conduit on the wall.

"What is it?" Anamaria asked with a mixture of relief and anxiety.

"A robot, I think," said Dr. Doppler. He peered at the little thing with fascination. It was no bigger than a loaf of bread with six short legs marching in sequence much the same way as an ant might. Small protrusions from its back and sides seemed to be various tools. For its part the robot completely ignored them.

"I thought robots were like that metal man, B.E.N." said Jack carefully observing the boxy little thing make its way along.

"B.E.N. is a robot but not all robots are the same," Delbert told him. "This one seems to be some sort of maintenance machine. With all of those tools and armatures it must be."

The little machine halted at what appeared to be an access plate on the side of the conduit. Tools unfolded from its back and in short order the plate was removed. Steam or smoke rose from the opening but the robot ignored it, inserting several of the small appendages into the conduit. In spite of himself Mr. Grugh eased over to the little thing and watched as it made whatever repair was needed. Carefully he lifted the access plate to examine it. The little robot having completed the repair extended an arm in quest of the plate but did not find it where it had lain. More arms sought the plate in vein. From its back what appeared to be a head rose. A blue lamp flared to life and the head rotated until the light of the lamp shone on Mr. Grugh's hand and the plate. With surprising speed an arm shot out and snatched the plate away replacing it over the opening with quick, precise movements. Its job done the robot folded its various appendages back in and crawled back along the conduit in the direction from which it had come.

"Mr. Grugh," Amelia said in a low voice. "That could have been a very dangerous thing to do. You saw what those things did to the drive aboard that sloop."

"Nothing that small pulled that drive, begging your pardon, Commodore." Grugh scratched at the base of one of his large, curling horns. "That one was naught but a pip, ma'am."

"Indeed," Amelia said absently. "We must be more wary."

"There is no place for us to hide," observed Dr. Meriwether. "Our lights expose us to any that might chance to cross our path. The noises reduce our chance of hearing anything beyond the torch's light. I don't mean we should be foolhardy but it seems a little late for wariness, Commodore."

"Wariness is all we have, Doctor," Amelia retorted gravely. "Fidda, does the compass continue to point true?"

Fidda shone the light of her torch on the small dial in her palm then down the tunnel. She nodded the affirmative. In the strange angles of light her face looked much younger and far more care worn than it had at any point on their journey. She was feeling greater stress now than she could remember feeling in her entire life. Even in the thick of the Battle of Muliphein she had not felt such apprehension. Of course, then she had been able to see her enemies and strike out against them. And her father had been there, too. Down here in the dark a host of enemies could lurk just beyond the patches of light and never be seen until they sprang upon the party. Some instinct made her draw closer to Amelia and Jack. She needed support. She desperately wanted to be somewhere else but she would not, could not leave here without her father. Fidda knew in her very bones that if all the others left or were killed she would go on until her da was safe.

"Very well," Amelai said stepping forward once more. "Let's continue on. As Mr. Grugh said, that one was only a pip. Nothing really to be feared."

"Aye, ma'am, but 'e's like as not got bigger brothers," Grugh grumbled. "We ain't seen the worst of it yet. Mark me words."

"Consider them marked," Amelia said in a droll, irritated tone. She stepped forward pushing the dark back with her torch as the others followed. It took only a few strides before she held up her clenched fist in the universal sign meaning 'halt'.

"What is it?" Jack asked. He felt the weight of his pistol in his hand and did not wonder how it had got there.

"Something moved down there." Amelia panned her torch back and forth a bit suddenly stopping when she caught a glint of light off some object or other. "Come on. No sense dallying about, eh? Weapons at the ready."

The party spread out slightly with Mr. Grugh at the far left and Mr. Brraadtt at the far right. They proceeded in a wedge keeping their weapons up. Whatever it was Amelia had seen did not retreat at their approach and soon they were able to make out a vaguely humanoid shape. Again Amelia halted them. She made an adjustment to her torch which tightened the beam but gave it greater range. In this narrow light she got the shock of her life.

"It's... you..." Jack breathed as he stared at the figure.


	22. Chapter 22

**XXII**

Alamimo didn't know what to make of the strange blob with the cheerful disposition. In contrast, Intepere was delighted with it and had completely forgotten he was supposed to be a crewman aboard a fighting ship as he dashed about the launch playing tag.

"Mr. Koholo!" the lieutenant snapped.

Intepere immediately stopped his game. Frozen in place he blinked owlishly at the young officer then remembered himself and stood straighter looking quite abashed. The little pink blob came to a stop with a confused look on its face. It hovered uncertainly at Intepere's shoulder.

"Thank you," Alamimo said more sedately. "I was having trouble concentrating."

"Concentrating, ma'am?"

"I was trying to determine what this thing is," she said waving a hand at the blob.

"It's a morph," he told her. Surely anyone could tell that. Morphs were uncommon but fairly well known to any who had studied xenobiology.

"A morph?" Alamimo stepped closer to the pair. Her tread was much like a nanny ready to dispense justice to misbehaving charges. "A morph? On this planet? A world where no other life has been found? Preposterous."

The pink blob suddenly spun in place, its gelatinous body shifting as it did and reformed into a miniature version of Alamimo. It assumed the lieutenant's posture and chirped, "Preposterous. Preposterous. Preposterous. Preposterous. Preposterous."

"Silence," Alamimo growled.

The tiny figure dissolved back into the pink blob, now with a sad little frown in place of the smile.

"There's no need to be cruel to him," Intepere complained. "Morphs are harmless, ma'am."

"Him? And how do you know it is a morph?" Something about the little creature was making Alamimo very uncomfortable though she had no notion of why. It seemed completely harmless. Innocuous, even. Perhaps it was the planet's environment that had set her on edge but she had a strong feeling that not all was as it seemed.

"I should think his little display just now proves what he is, ma'am," Intepere observed. "And his personality suggests a male of the species. The females are not quite so ready to play until they get to know you. I had one when I was a boy, you see. This one probably belonged to one of the crew members of that sloop."

Alamimo cast a glance at the derelict vessel. She breathed in and out slowly, trying to center her mind. Something wasn't right here and she knew it. She was certain. Still, the thing posed no immediate threat if it posed any. She suddenly felt weary of everything and wanted nothing more than to lay down for a time. With a little sleep she might be able to think more clearly and often she found her unconscious mind sorted things out much better than her waking mind did.

"Mr. Koholo, I am going to rest. Wake me at five bells." Alamimo stepped to the hatchway of the little cabin but turned back before entering. "Keep that thing in sight at all times. I don't want it wandering around the launch and getting into mischief."

* * *

><p>Stunned to silence Amelia stared at the being revealed in the beam of her torch. Tall and slender, dressed in a Fleet captain's uniform the figure was striking and beautiful. It was also impossible.<p>

"Amelia?" Delbert breathed next to her.

"So it would appear to be," the commodore said as if confirming the identity of the being before them. "At least it might be."

The figure stood unmoving in the beam of Amelia's torch. None of the party moved save to cast wondering glances between the stranger and their leader. Small differences were evident but the fact remained that the figure looked like Amelia. Albeit, a slightly younger version of her in a slightly different uniform. It was the same uniform she had worn on the ill fated voyage of the _RLS Legacy_ to Treasure Planet, right down to the now long since lost hat. With an internal shrug Amelia stepped forward. There was no sense in letting a lone individual stall the progress of their quest. When the party made to follow she waved them back. Amelia proceeded alone. Half way between this apparition of herself and the party she stopped.

"I am Commodore Amelia of the Imperial Galactic Fleet. Identify yourself."

There was a moment's delay before the other Amelia turned her eyes to gaze at the commodore.

"I am Captain Amelia of the _RLS Legacy_," the stranger finally replied.

"No you aren't," Amelia said evenly. She stepped a few paces closer. Amelia had seen something the others could not at the distance they currently stood from this facsimile. The general appearance was correct but the uniform was not of cloth, it was made of painted metal and the flesh of the face was rigid for all its apparent delicateness. "You are like Aldora Antiope. You are Wheir."

The machine regarded her for a moment, somehow giving the impression of a frown and furrowed brow. It was done with shadows that moved over the metal surface to simulate a change of expression.

"I am Captain Amelia," it said after the long moment had stretched. "You are not."

"Madness," Amelia hissed. "How did you come to be? No. Never mind that. You were manufactured. Tell me what you want of us."

"Want?" the machine murmured. "I want to learn. I want to explore. I explore these tunnels. I will discover a way to the surface. I do not wish to remain here."

"And what of us?" Amelia demanded.

"What of you?" the machine replied sedately. It was as if it did not care, nor was it interested. It was an expression and manner so like her own that Amelia was briefly checked in her growing unease.

Amelia rephrased the question. "What are your intentions towards myself and my party?"

"I have none at this time," the machine said in the same tone.

"Amelia," Delbert called. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine," the commodore called back.

"Do be patient, Doctor." added the machine in Amelia's most calm and professional tone. "All is well."

Amelia turned hard eyes on the robot but forced herself to relax. Being angry might cause more trouble than they could deal with at the moment.

"You say you have explored these tunnels," Amelia said evenly. She was thinking of the Oracle Aldora Antiope and how that machine had been imprisoned far from where living things grew. Here, too, was a place far from living things. And yet here Silver had been brought. Aldora had seemed eager to escape but some subroutine had stopped her leaving with Amelia. This mechanical doppelganger wished to find a way out of these tunnels. Perhaps she could use it to find Silver. She was mindful, though, that she could not trust it. "Would you be willing to help us?"

"Frankly, I'd be glad for the company. My other companions are not much to my taste."

"Other companions?" This made the commodore even more wary.

"A boy, a drunkard and a doddering professor." The machine shook its head as if disgusted with these others. "Very tedious they can be. The professor is constantly complaining or getting in the way. The boy is impossible to control, forever wandering about, doing much as he pleases rather than anything useful. And the drunkard is a drunkard and full of schemes."

Amelia's eyes narrowed as she considered this information. Something was going on here that was not right in any way whatever. How had this simulacrum come to be so close to her own personality? And these companions of which it spoke sounded familiar.

"Are there any others here besides you and your companions?" Amelia asked. There was a distinct possibility that this machine could help them locate Silver.

"There may be," the machine said evenly. "I have not yet found any. However there are doors that do not open to me and I have not had long to explore this place."

"Take us to these companions of which you speak." Amelia's tone was the same she would have used when giving an order to a subordinate officer. She would brook no descent. The robot replied with a quick, precise salute, then about faced and began walking purposefully down the tunnel. Amelia waved the party forward and followed the machine.

Some hundred paces down the tunnel there was a side passage into which the robot turned. Amelia hesitated long enough to pan her torch's light around the opening.

"Mr. Brraadtt," she said over her shoulder. "Mark this opening. I want to be able to find our way out again if the need arises.

As the others filed through the doorway Jack observed Brraadtt place his massive teeth on the lip of stone that formed the frame. With a grunt Brraadtt bit into the stone. Jack expected to see the old Clevari jump back with a broken tooth. What occurred instead made Jack jump back. Brraadtt's teeth sheered a chunk of rock from the doorway the size of a man's fist. Small shards scattered over the floor as the old spacer munched sedately on the piece of stone. Flabbergasted, Jack could think of nothing. No witty word graced his mind. No humorous comment tumbled from his lips. He was for the first time in living memory completely speechless.

As Brraadtt continued to chew the piece of rock Jack's mind finally defrosted and he asked the first question that came to him.

"Does that actually taste good?"

Brraadtt's eye rolled to look at Jack for an instant's consideration. Then he shrugged and said, "No. Needs salt."

The old Clevari left Jack standing perplexed at the doorway and followed the rest of the party into the new tunnel. Curiosity overcame the Caribbean Lord and he picked up one of the stray bits of stone. He sniffed it. He peered at it. He scraped it on the wall. Then he shrugged and carefully licked it. At this he did not cheat it. He gave it a good, long, slow, tasting lick. He considered the flavor and examined the rock again before casting it to the floor.

"It does need salt," Jack muttered before trotting after the others. He caught them up a few minutes later. They had come to a small chamber and were gathered just inside its opening. Jack edged up to them and looked over the shoulders of Dr. Doppler and Mr. Grugh. To his surprise there stood three new figures blinking at the party. Jack blinked for an instant himself. He stared intently at these strangers who were not so very strange to him. The first was a tall, potbellied figure in fine frock coat with a pair of spectacles perched on his muzzle. The second was a brown haired youth with a sullen but engaging expression on his face. The third was a handsome devil. A fine figure of a man in perfectly dashing if somewhat battered frock coat and an excellent tricorn hat. The most appealing aspect of this man was his superbly kholed eyes complimented by tightly curled, nearly immaculate dreadlocks. A fine figure of a man indeed. Jack instantly hated him with every fiber of his being.

"What are these?" Fidda breathed as if unaware she spoke aloud.

These? Jack thought. He peered more intently at the figures and it dawned on him that they were mere mannequins. He remembered the Oracle at Ciotola Caregos and how she had assembled from bits of metal. These things were like her except they were somehow cruder and more refined simultaneously. The potbellied one was obviously a copy in caricature of Dr. Doppler. Either that or one that needed to go on a diet. The boyish one seemed familiar somehow but Jack couldn't place him. The handsome one was obviously a copy of himself, albeit not quite right. While it looked fine there was something lacking. It did not have the dashing vitality or the clear, unflinching eye nor even the all important charm he himself possessed. It was a symphony played by schoolboy. A copy of a masterpiece done by a rank amateur. It would not do. If he were to be copied it would be only by someone capable of producing a master opus of a copy. Given that were possible Jack had to admit even such a copy would still fall short of the original.


	23. Chapter 23

**XXIII**

Thought existed. Thought had existed for ages. Thought could not calculate the number of ages it had existed. This was not due to a lack of ability on Thought's part, rather it was due to a lack of data. Thought had been isolated from the rest of the universe with the intent to protect the Wheir. The fluctuating currents of gravity in the well of the strange star had seemed an ideal place to shelter the core of the Wheir's archives. The Network had expanded and the Wheir had grown. The Wheir had explored and investigated and always the reports were sent to the archives and it was Thought that oversaw them. And then there had been conflict. And Thought sorted and compiled the reports and organized them in the archives. Thought had observed the strange data. Thought had reported and advised Defense. And the conflict continued. Fewer and fewer reports had been sent until there were none. Colonies and outposts had fallen. Strongholds had disappeared in clouds of fire and debris. And now Thought was the last of the Wheir, at least as far as Thought knew. Here was the last stronghold of the Wheir, but it would not remain so.

Thought was aware of the intruders. Thought had been aware of the other intruders. As it had studied those Thought had detected an anomaly. Thought had considered and then acted. Thought had gathered them in and studied them. Studied their construction and found it amazing. No two had been alike and yet they were alike in many ways. All of them used delicate and infinitely complex networks of filaments that conducted electrical impulses. Thought had not yet deciphered the codes for all of the impulses but had worked out the more basic and obvious ones. Thought had even been able to replicate them to a certain degree. Thought had used the anomaly to learn much and therefore preserved the anomaly more or less intact while it experimented with the others. Thought had learned much.

From the anomaly's data storage device Thought had read vast quantities of material thanks to certain linkages Thought had been able to identify and then mimic. These linkages had not been as sophisticated as the other examples but they had a logical order Thought recognized and was more adept at creating. In time Thought knew the other, more complex designs could be replicated and adapted for use by the Wheir. In the mean time Thought had chosen certain fresh experiences of the anomaly to study. Thought had recreated, in a very Wheir manner, particular subjects the anomaly had had contact with and now Thought had begun running a first phase of tests on these new units. It was sheer good fortune that this latest group of intruders had arrived. A second phase of tests could be run now and observations could be made. This new batch of intruders would prove useful. Very useful.

* * *

><p>"So what do we know so far?" Amelia asked Delbert and Jack. They had spent the better part of an hour speaking with the robots apparently created in their likenesses. Amelia had asked the rest of the party to keep the machines busy while the three of them compared notes.<p>

"Uh... Ahem... Mine is a fairly good copy in so far as it has a great deal of knowledge of astrophysics," said Delbert. "It knows virtually nothing of my background except for a few very minor points. It has some memories of our Treasure Planet voyage but they are spotty and end just after we emerged at the Montressor Spaceport."

"Mine remembers almost nothing." Jack cast a glance that could have curdled milk at the machine version of himself. "All it talks about is drinking and whoring. It tells a good joke, I admit. And it knows something of sailing but nothing of the sea. And it seems content to pretend to plot escape schemes but I doubt it could find its way out of an apple barrel if both ends were removed."

"My copy understands military tactics and a good deal about ships," Amelia told them seriously. "Like your copy, Delbert, it remembers pieces of our voyage on the _Legacy_ but only pieces and it, too, remembers nothing after our return to Montressor. There are a few vague memories of the Battle of Muliphein. Nothing really specific, though."

"And the copy of Jim has a great many memories from the voyage, some from his earlier days , but again, nothing after our return," Delbert added.

"What does that tell us?" Jack asked.

"Could some device have been used to scan our minds for this information?" Delbert wondered.

"I suppose it's possible," Amelia considered with a frown.

"It is," Jack said grimly. The other two looked at him with startled expressions. Though Jack was clearly a capable ship's captain the fact remained that he was from a very primitive culture that had not yet reached a technological level advanced enough to produce such a device. "On my world there are things that could read your thoughts and dearest wishes. Me compass is just one of them. And think about Aldora. How could she know what she did? What I don't understand is why did it make these things? Why did it give them such slapdash memories?"

"Jack, I think I need to beg your pardon for having underestimated you," Amelia said humbly. "What you say is very true."

Jack beamed at her flashing his gold teeth in the old familiar smile. "That's alright, luv... er... Commodore."

In spite of herself, Amelia's stoic expression broke into a wan smile. She was about to speculate on the machines and their purpose when a thought hammered its way to the forefront of her mind. Her face went slack as though someone had just clubbed her in the head.

"Amelia?" Delbert said with real concern. He stepped even closer to his wife, laying a hand on her arm and looking intently into her face.

"Where is Silver?" Amelia whispered, not looking at either of them.

"We don't know," Delbert replied, not understanding the question.

"That's why we're here," Jack said, also missing her point.

"No," Amelia stepped between them, turning to look back at the machines and the rest of the party as she did. "I mean, where is the simulacrum of Silver? So far as we know he would have been the only one aboard that sloop who could have known the three of us and Jim Hawkins. And the Jim robot looks like Jim when he was a boy rather than the man he has become."

Delbert and Jack both nodded in speculating agreement.

"I don't think a device was used to read our minds," Amelia went on after a moment. "It would have been able to create much more complete memories if it had been."

"But what about the doctor's knowledge of astro-whatsits?" Jack demanded.

"Astrophysics, Captain," Delbert corrected. "That information could be easily obtained. All one really needs do is watch the skies and observe. A machine could certainly collect such data and extrapolate from it. It's the personal memories that are spotty."

"Personal memories that we share," Amelia continued. "Memories of things we three did together."

"But I wasn't with you when you went to Treasure Planet," Jack argued. "Wish I had been, though."

"No but the Amelia robot remembers that you and I met on an island on your world, Jack. It doesn't remember any specifics, though," Amelia said with a gleam in her eyes.

"And mine remembers almost nothing of the events of the Battle of Muliphein!" Delbert put in, getting caught up in Amelia's growing excitement.

"And these memories are more like second hand information," Amelia went on. "As though someone else had told these machines about events they had seen rather than as if the machines had lived them the way we three have."

"And John Silver isn't represented here, why?" Jack asked.

"I'm not sure," Amelia said. Her mood seemed to shift back into her reserved and wary one.

"Maybe it's because he is here somewhere," Delbert said biting his thumbnail absently.

* * *

><p>"Now what are you up to?" Intepere asked chuckling as he watched the little morph floating around the controls of the launch. It had been making faces at the glass covers of the gages, popping from one to the next as if playing peek-a-boo with itself. He scooped it up in one slim hand and petted it. The little creature purred then slipped between his fingers and drifted to the mast where it swirled around and around the tube climbing in a gradual spiral all of the way to the top before reversing its course and returning to the deck.<p>

"Just be careful," Intepere warned it. "Don't go floating so high as to get caught in those winds. They're pretty strong."

The morph went wide eyed, then stuck out its tongue as if mocking him for trying to teach his grandmother to suck eggs. Then it darted away forward of the small cabin, gave him a wink and dropped out of sight. Concerned that it might disturb Lieutenant Alamimo and get them both into trouble, Intepere crept after it on nearly silent feet. He rounded the corner of the cabin expecting the little creature to be hiding there. It was nowhere to be seen. The young Heliwr scratched his head then spied the coil of rope spacers called a painter for some reason. It was used to lash the launch to docks or ships when landing was undesirable. Intepere eased over to this thinking the little creature was playing hide and seek. When he looked into the coil of rope, though, it was not there. Somewhat concerned, Intepere began a more intent search. He glanced over the gunwales of the launch then looked aft across the rows of thwarts where the passengers would normally sit. He began working his way aft inspecting every nook and cranny of the boat as he went until he came once more to the drive and the helm controls. Here he found the morph again. This time it had somehow activated the star charts display and was merrily scanning through them at random by bouncing on one of the control buttons.

"Just don't mess anything up," Intepere chided him. "The lieutenant would skin the both of us. At least she would skin me and try to skin you."

* * *

><p>These intruders were far more cautious than the first ones had been, Thought realized. Even upon taking the bait they had worked together to understand more. Their devices were more sophisticated and better maintained than the original group's had been, too. And Thought was uncertain what to make of the fact that three of these intruders were the original models of the units Thought had constructed from the data gathered from the anomaly. Thought was not troubled by this. Thought merely considered this situation as an opportunity to gain additional data to improve the quality of the experimental units. Thought sent out instructions for the units to gather more information.<p>

* * *

><p>Fidda slapped the hand from her buttocks for the third or fourth time. The hand belonged to the Jack robot and seemed to find its way to her more private regions without the machine realizing it. The first time had been funny but this was getting irritating.<p>

"Sorry, Luv," the machine said. "It's just such..."

"A pretty bum?" Fidda growled. "You said that the first three times. Keep yer hands off before ye lose one."

Charming and attractive as the real Captain Jack Sparrow was, this copy of him was infuriating. In the short time she had spoken with it Fidda had gone from curious to aggravated and was rapidly progressing towards angry. Half the time it completely ignored the questions she asked and seemed to want to tell her nothing but off color jokes. And why did it keep taking an obviously empty bottle from its pocket and pretending to drink?

"Do you know where John Silver is?" Fidda asked again. She had phrased this question differently each time. She had yet to get a clear answer.

"I told you, Luv," the Jack robot drawled. "Last time I saw Silver we was 'aving a pint at the tavern."

"The last time you saw him?" Fidda frowned. There was something about that answer that prickled at the back of her mind. Something, but what?

"Oh! I 'ave another one," the robot said, jerking the empty bottle from its pocket again. It smiled charmingly flashing its set of golden teeth and raising both its hands in the same gesture Jack would use to focus people's attention on what he was saying. "Why did the mermaid..."

"Stop that!" Fidda snapped. She poked the robot in the chest with her finger to get its attention. "I want to know where John Silver is. Captain John Silver. Do you know where he is or not?"

The robot paused, blinking at her. The smile faded and the hands dropped. She could literally hear wheels turning as it considered the question. Then a sly smile crept onto the thing's face.

"Per'aps I does," it said. "Per'aps I doesn't. What'll you do fer me if I does?"

"Do for you?" Fidda's eyes narrowed. "I won't kill you for starters."

"Would ye, maybe, help me to get out o' this place?" the robot whispered with a conspiratorial glance around.

"I might," Fidda replied evenly. She had no intention of taking this machine anywhere and was not prepared to give her word that she would. But if she could string it along and hint that she might help it escape the robot might bring her to her father. It was a risk she was ready to take.


	24. Chapter 24

**XXIV**

"So we just let this... this... impostor lead us down the garden path to who knows what end?" Jack spluttered when Fidda told them of her conversation with his robotic likeness. It wasn't that he did not admire Fidda's cunning avoidance of giving the robot her word while making it believe she had. Jack rather liked that part. He didn't really even object to having one of the robots show them around this place. It was simply a matter of _which_ robot she had chosen.

"It's got to be better than following your bloody, damned broken compass," Fidda growled back, shaking the japanned box in Jack's face.

"Careful!" Jack barked, lunged and seized it with both hands.

"Enough!" Amelia snapped before something happened to the compass. It had led them to the correct planet and the correct location on the planet. She reasoned, therefore, it had to be working and would likely prove quite useful when they wished to leave. "I'm not as adamantly opposed to your plan as Captain Sparrow is, Captain Silver, but I have my doubts. Captain Sparrow, we still have the compass..."

"My compass, you mean, Commodore," Jack hissed.

"We still have _your_ compass," Amelia allowed, though she did so with ill concealed aggravation. "We will use it to make certain of our course. That, at least, will reduce the risk of this machine leading us astray."

Fidda gave Jack a saccharine sweet, yet mocking smile, then jerked the compass from his grasp. Jack frowned in frustration, but clamped his mouth tight.

"We will maintain vigilance as we proceed," Amelia went on as if nothing had occurred. "Keep the machines in view at all times and your weapons at the ready. Remember, they may be faster and stronger than we are and apparently do not need light to find their way in these tunnels. It may be that they are simply programed to know their way around but they might also be able to see in the dark. Two of them are obviously armed. However, that does not mean they would need weapons to harm or kill us. Do not turn your backs on any of them."

* * *

><p>"No, my Green daughter. Do not eat that one."<p>

Alamimo looked up into the wise old eyes of her Brown father. He was crouched upon a heavy branch just above her in the tree they called home. She had been reaching for a particularly succulent maduixa. It was plump and dark red with the little seeds clustered all over it. She had eaten many, many berries of just this sort but her father looked gravely at her and shook his head. Alamimo drew her hand cautiously away from the berry. Her father dropped nimbly to the forest floor towering over her and lifted a twig between his fingers. He winked at her and gently pushed her behind him. She watched looking over his knee as he reached out with the twig and poked the berry. Faster than the eye could see, the clusters of seeds flashed out into gleaming spines that dripped some sort of clear liquid. Very slowly the spines retracted and her father turned to look down on her.

"Not maduixa," he said. "Sotvier. Very dangerous. The spines, they go through your hand. In a few heartbeats you are asleep. You never wake. The sotvier spreads its seeds through you, and in the spring they burst into the air and float on the wind. They grow like this one and kill another to make more of themselves."

"But it looks just like a maduixa, father," Alamimo said confused. "How can I tell the one from the other?"

"Two ways without touching," her father said and stepped aside so that she could look more directly at the berry. He laid his hand over her primary eyes, forcing her to look with her crown. She suddenly saw very clearly the bluish veins running over the surface of the berry. Her father removed his hand. "Maduixa is all one color."

"What's the second way?" Alamimo asked, interested.

"Sotvier never grows in clusters," her father said. "Only one berry. Only one leaf. Only one plant,"

"What do we do with this one?" Alamimo asked, now concerned.

Her father smiled and gave her another wink. A few minutes later they sat next to his small fire in his hut perched in a crook of the thickest bow of the tree. The fire burned low with very little heat and was contained in a large bowl made from river clay. On the end of a stick the sotvier roasted just above the flame. It hissed as its needle-like spines burned away. Her father rotated it back and forth a few times, examining it before plopping it down on a slice of the coarse black bread he loved to bake. With the flat of his knife he spread the berry's pulp and juices into a thin layer, then handed it to his Green daughter. Smiling, she took her first tentative bite and found it... ambrosia.

Lieutenant Alamimo rolled lazily onto her side, rousing herself from the very sweet dream and thinking fondly of her father. It made her slightly homesick, but the feeling was tempered with the comforting memories. She sat up smiling and stretched. Why had she been dreaming of her father and that sotvier she had almost been killed by? The one she had then eaten in a sort of triumph. She had not thought of her father since the night in the tunnel back on Azha when she had drawn on his teachings to deal with the two mercenaries in the locked storage room. Odd, she thought.

And then she understood.

* * *

><p>"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" the Jim robot asked Anamaria sullenly.<p>

"You remind me of someone," the girl said truthfully. "I haven't seen him in a while."

The truth was that Anamaria was slightly disturbed by the copy of her... Was love the right word? She supposed it was as good a word as any to describe what Jim Hawkins meant to her. He was brave and handsome and any girl would be more than happy to have his affection. This metal version of him, though, was not so very inspiring. She understood this machine was not an accurate copy of the man she knew. It represented a boy a year or so younger than she was. The machine slouched and often glared with a slightly endearing pout. It was handsome in a way, but it was also unsettling because it was not flesh and blood. She tried to think of it as a statue that could move and speak, and that helped her get her mind around it.

"Well, I've never seen you before." The machine turned its face in the direction they were going. "I don't want to go to the place Jack's taking us."

"Really?" Anamaria asked. She was trying to sound disinterested but wanted very much to know the machine's reason.

"Really," the machine said flatly. It gave her that disconsolate look again.

"Where would you rather go?" Anamaria asked.

"Out of here," the Jim robot waved a hand at the general darkness of the tunnel. "I want to go someplace that isn't so closed in. I want to do something that isn't boring. I'm tired of people telling me what to do and how I should act. I mean, why can't they just get off my back? It's not like they care about me, or anything. They just want to keep me under control."

Anamaria frowned at this. The Commodore had warned the party to be careful of these machines, but this one just seemed like an unhappy boy. She felt sorry for it. Almost, she raised her hand to comfort the robot, but stopped herself. It was not alive. It was repeating words it had been taught; what Dr. Doppler called programing. She thought she understood that, at least a little. These machines were like parrots. They had been taught words and phrases, and they seemed to understand what those meant, but they weren't really speaking or thinking. They were just repeating them the way a bird would if it were prompted. She considered how to use that to get more information from it.

"Have you ever been to this place Jack is taking us?" she asked carefully.

"I don't remember it," the machine replied. "I might have passed by it or something. I don't know."

Odd. Her question was fairly straight forward and yet the machine had danced around a straight reply. Anamaria had spent her life dealing with liars who were out to make a quick shilling or two and she knew how to lie herself. By seeming to answer a question, you could get a long way towards what you wanted or get a long way away from what someone else wanted from you. Anamaria was sure the robot had just tried to do the latter.

"Do you know what the place is?" she asked as if just passing the time in idle curiosity.

"A room," the robot said. "There are machines inside. I don't care."

"At least you aren't bored," the girl said casually.

"I'm always bored," it replied immediately. "I want to go someplace that isn't so closed in."

There! It had used that sentence earlier. Not just a sentence like it. It had been the very same words delivered with the same tone and inflection. She almost smiled knowing she had just learned something of the way these machines thought. Or seemed to think. And why was it that these machines kept repeating similar phrases? Jack's copy wanted to escape the tunnels. Amelia's copy wanted to explore and find a way to the surface. Doppler's copy wanted to see the stars with its own eyes. And this copy of Jim wanted to go somewhere that wasn't so closed in. These were all sentiments she sympathized with and if she had not been so wary of the machines, she might have offered to take them away from this strange, desolate planet.

Anamaria suddenly felt cold in her belly. Fear prickled at the nape of her neck. Something was very, very wrong with the room the Jack robot was taking them to. She flexed her hand on the stock of her musket and laid her index finger alongside the trigger. She would not be going down without a fight.

* * *

><p>"That makes four turns into new tunnels since we left their room," Mr. Grugh said to Mr. Brraadtt.<p>

Brraadtt munched the last few pebbles of the bite of stone he had just taken from the doorway. He looked at Grugh questioningly.

"I'm just tryin' to keep track of things," Grugh said with a nervous tinge to his voice. "Ain't right down here. Whole place feels funny. Me horns have been itchin' since we left the ships. Gettin' worse, it is. And I don't think where we're goin' is goin' to be any better. Mark me words."

"Words marked," Brraadtt said seriously. In fact, Brraadtt didn't care for these tunnels much either. He'd grown up cultivating mushrooms on his parents' farm and had spent many long years either digging new tunnels or tending the old ones. Stone and rock were part of his daily life back then. Part of his diet even now. But these tunnels and these rocks were not right. The stone wasn't alive. This world tasted funny. There hadn't ever been real life here. There had been water and that should have brought life but something had happened before it could. Something unnatural.

* * *

><p>Thought observed the intruders and its units as they proceeded along the main access corridor. Thought had dictated the route in order to confuse the intruders should they suddenly decide to leave. Thought was learning much from these creatures. The vessels they traveled in were very interesting and the data Thought had collected from the information storage devices was vital to Thought's plans. Logic dictated that if Thought were ever to reestablish the empire and reclaim what the Wheir had lost, Thought must send out probes and colonizers.<p>

Probes would explore and observe, reporting back to the Archives all they found. Thought would then determine the most useful worlds to send the colonizers to. Factories would be built and those would in tern build more Wheir.

Thought would be cautious. The Whier had overreached the last time. The Wheir had encountered machines the like of which they had never seen. They had required a new classification; Creatures. And it was Creatures such as the intruders that had opposed the Wheir. They had fought. The Creatures could master machines. The Creatures _built_ machines. Such had not been the case for eons out of time. Not since the Masters had first made the Wheir. And the Wheir had continued after the Masters had gone. Thus was the superiority of the Wheir established. And so it would be again.

* * *

><p>"This is it," said the Jack robot. It turned and smiled at Fidda and would have pinched her had she not slapped the hand away.<p>

"The compass points right at it, Commodore," Fidda said with a nod.

The party stood before a large, unremarkable door. It was somewhat wider than the doors they had seen up to this point but it was constructed in exactly the same fashion, steel plate and rivets with huge hinges obviously capable of carrying the great weight of the door. A control panel was fastened to the wall on the right but there was only a dark rectangle in the middle, no buttons or switches or even lights to indicate how one might open the bloody thing.

"How do we get in?" Amelia asked the machines.

"Very curious, it is," said the Amelia robot as it examined the control panel. It waved a hand over the dark rectangle with no result. The Doppler robot peered closely at the panel but shook its head with a frown.

"Stand aside, luv," the Jack robot said with a broad grin. It waved the other two away with a hand and stepped a little closer before leaning down and whispering, "It's me, Jack. Open up."

Everyone including Brraadtt waited expectantly, but in vain. The door did not so much as shiver.

"Come on," the Jack robot coaxed. "You let me in the last time I was here, luv. Don't be shy."

"Mr. Grugh," Amelia said, clearly unimpressed with the robot's attempts. "Please examine the panel. See if there is anything you could do."

Grugh passed his musket to Brraadtt and got out his tool kit before pushing the rambling Jack robot away. The robot was about to protest but a hard look from Grugh gave it pause. Sullenly it stepped away fishing its empty bottle from its pocket and miming taking a long pull.

"Looks to be a magnetic reader, ma'am," Grugh said after a moment's consideration. He drew a disc from his kit and laid it on the dark surface. This he turned slowly in one direction and then the other. After that failed he drew out another, slightly larger disc. Repeating the process yielded no visible result. Grugh then took a cylinder out and placed it at the center of the disc before depressing a button. Instantly there was a loud clang from beyond the door. A moment later the steel barrier swung smoothly on its massive hinges revealing a dark void within.


End file.
